Moths
by pseudo-quill
Summary: A city of light and dark, shadow and lies. A string of chilling murders, brought to light. Amidst murder and arson, investigator Kurogane Suwa finds himself drawn in by the suspect, secretive blonde-haired-blue-eyed Fai D. Flourite. CLAMP pairings. AU
1. The Murder of John Marrows

**Summary: A city of light and dark, shadow and lies. A string of chilling murders, brought to light. Amidst the blood, gore, and arson, investigator Kurogane Suwa finds himself drawn in by the suspect, secretive blonde-haired-blue-eyed Fai D. Flourite.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

The clocktower looms over the city, a solemn figure standing tall and upright amidst the grey buildings and little sparks of light. The ornate hands tick away. 56. 57. 58. 59.

11: 58.

The curtains flutter around the open window behind him, and the streets crawling across the city are empty and dark, awash in the sickly pale light of the street-lamps. Below, the alleyway is darkened. A small lamp sprouts from the alley's wall like a sinister gargoyle, flickering weakly. The pitch blackness a little further down the alley is lit suddenly by a little spark of a flame. In that instance, a face of a man is set alight, eyes hidden in dark shadows. A cigarette glows dimly in front of him, but there is a gust of wind, and the light dies. There is low cursing.

11: 59.

He leans his forearms on the railing of the fire escape in front of him, and watches the man turn away from the entrance of the alley, hunching over his cigarette as he attempts to light it again. A click of a lighter, probably out of gas judging from the spluttering flame. Another spark. The light dies, and there's more cursing. There is again one last spark, like a star extinguished far too quickly, and the clock-tower begins its knell. Midnight.

_Stars, hide your fires, _he thinks as he swings himself over the railing. His trenchcoat, black as the night surrounding, billows up around him as he falls, falls, _falls_.

He lands neatly, silent as a cat behind the man. The lamp shines a dying spotlight on the dirty cobblestone between them. He straightens up gracefully from his crouch, staring unblinkingly as the man stiffens, and turns slowly around. The man is slightly hunched into a defensive posture, and his eyes are narrowed, trying to make him out in the darkness, his face suspicious and wary. He scans that face, that terribly familiar face; a nose too large—more a beak than a nose—a large jaw, and a thick neck to match, face pockmarked with little craters, and a deep line in between his dark brows from a scowl too many.

John Marrows. Age 31. Unemployed with previous charges for assault, robbery, and harassment. A terrible smoker.

"Who the hell are you?"

He steps forward, into the light. The man reaches into his coat for his gun, but finds that he's left it at home. He takes out a mugger's knife instead.

"Are you trying to mug a mugger?" the criminal scoffs as he grins, a feral baring of teeth, "What's with the hood? This isn't a horror film."

Reaching up, the man fists his black gloved hands in the material of the hood, a black cloth draped over his head—an executioner's hood. He watches the other's face unblinkingly as he slowly lifts it off.

John Marrows staggers backwards, stumbles, falls to the ground.

"You—it can't be…" he whispers, horrified, "You're dead! You're _dead!_"

He scrambles backwards in terror, knife and lighter forgotten on the floor as his would-be assailant advances silently, out of the light and into the darkness, features melting back into shadows. Blank eyes shimmer in the darkness like the terrifying eyes of a beast, fair hair alight from behind like a fiery lion's mane, or the flaming halo of a vindictive asura. The assailant crouches, like a beast about to pounce, and picks up the abandoned knife, pocketing the lighter. The knife glints menacingly, and John yells and kicks as black-leathered fingers tighten around his ankle, pulls.

A scream resounds in the alley.

The knife glints overhead, red with blood, stabs down again, again, again, into his gut. A slow, but inevitable death.

The crumbling apartment buildings on either side of them are unnaturally quiet. There is no one coming to the windows. No one wants to know. No one wants to know.

The assailant lets up for a moment, stands up. John scrambles desperately around him, crawling for the entrance of the alley. There is a short rustling behind him, then the sound of liquid splashing over the floor.

"Help…" he sobs weakly, life's blood leaving a grisly trail of gore and violence behind him, "_Help…"_

He can feel the gaping wound in his gut, a slice so long that he feels that his entrails might come tumbling out, over the cobblestone, to join the blood, trailing gruesomely behind him like the legs of a jellyfish. Gloved fingers grab him by the ankle once more, drags him back along the bumpy floor. He whimpers as his wounds scrape against the cobblestone, gritty with dirt and sand. He is flipped over to face that terrifying familiar face again, expressionless, unblinking. Liquid sloshes over him, and he shields his face from it. The smell of kerosene permeates in the darkness.

"No," he croaks, as his assailant, his _murderer, _begins to splash the kerosene from a can, over the walls, over the ground, very carefully not getting on himself, "No, no, _no!"_

The knife glints one last time, and then the man brings it down upon him, right between his legs.

The silent streets echo with the sound of a final chilling scream, dragged on and on and on, an animal sound of agony and torment. There's a loud crack, and the sound cuts off abruptly into a gurgle.

The assailant stares down unflinchingly at his victim. John Marrows clutches at his broken ribs, at his mangled groin, at his broken arm, at the wound sliced up his belly like a fish gutted. His eyes are empty, unseeing with pain and fear. He leaves the man on the floor along with the knife in puddle of his own blood and entrails, pulling the hood over his head and sloshing the kerosene sloppily over the floor and walls as he makes for the lights ahead. He stops at the threshold between alley and main road, half lit by the street-lamps that brighten the pavement, and half shrouded in the shadows of the gory alley. He tosses the empty can back into the darkness, then reaches into his coat for the stolen lighter.

The alley bursts into flames, flames licking across the floor and up the walls like lightning. It takes only a second before the agonized screaming starts anew.

He tosses the lighter into the flames, after its owner, and turns away. As he darts up an overflowing dumpster, he hears the sirens begin, mingling with the screams and the crackling of the flames from across the city; across the city—the brighter half of it. There's no doubt that they weren't called here by the residents in these parts. No one wants to know. He catches hold of the bars of a fire escape, swings himself up, over. Finally, he stands on the ceiling of 174 Handrivel Lane, a line of fire licking up the side of the building, and looks over the city.

From the _other _side of the city, the side of the city that glows with lights and life, the red and blue flashes of police cars crawl slowly towards him through the shadows—moths to a flame.

* * *

**A/N: Ahem, I'm not sure whether the violence here is alright for the more squeamish people, so yeah. I'll tell you now that Fullmetal Alchemist gave me nightmares, and this didn't scare me, so I didn't think it would be _that _bad. But in case it bothers you, I think you'll be happy to note that the other chapters will probably not be violent at all. And I'M SO SORRY READERS OF MY OTHER UNCOMPLETED CHAPTERED FICS. I just keep getting these _ideas, _and I just _have _to write them! And the thing is that Catharsis and Moths (this) are likely to be shorter chaptered fics in comparison to From the Ashes, and I'm using these two to battle the writer's block I have right now. I'll try to update more regularly for From the Ashes, considering that its gonna be pretty long, but I can't promise the same for Catharsis and Moths, as they are both my weapons against writer's block. This fic was actually inspired (_inspired, _because this fic doesn't quite follow that prompt) by a prompt on the clampkink meme. Oh, and there's actually a lot of social dynamics and politics going on in the city, there's a great "class" divide here (note "the _other _side of the city") which I will cover a little more in the next chapter. Which should be up in a little while. New readers should note that I will be going overseas next week, so there'll be a short two week hiatus in all writing. But chapter 1 (this is the prologue) should be up before I leave.**

**Anyway, in the next chapter, Kurogane grouses about the social dynamics, and identifies Fai as a main suspect. Because the police are seriously lost, they need to show that they're doing _something, _and he can't bring himself to name Yukito (so innocent) or Kakyou (can't even leave his bed) as suspects. Fai is the "most suspicious" guy they've got, so he's got to do. Le gasp. Will Kurogane be able to find the culprit? What is Fai hiding? Is Kurogane gonna prove Fai's innocence? Is Kurogane gonna fall for Fai? Read on to find out the answers! (Except for the answer to the last question, because everyone knows the answer is yes.)**

**Lastly, review! Reviews are the ultimate weapon against writer's block, and I can't describe the feeling one gets from seeing the review count go up by even one. Also, I'm trying for a setting a little bit more noir than I usually write here, so please do tell me if I succeeded.**


	2. The Murder of Leah Cummins

**Summary: The suspects are introduced. Kurogane muses on the social dynamics, and realizes that there's not much of a difference anyway.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

Kurogane Suwa sighs, and straightens his files, stashing them in the drawer of his desk as the suspect leaves the room, looking afraid and a little wobbly. Tsukishiro Yukito, a clerk at one of the smaller offices in the city. He was sweet as a kitten, and just as harmless. He'd been terribly afraid as he'd been questioned, and Kurogane finally had told him to go home when he looked close to having a nervous breakdown. His dark-haired colleague shot him a nasty look from the doorway as he pulled the silvery-haired man to his side.

This was the second murder in two weeks, and the details were startlingly similar to the first. Gutted, castrated, then burnt to death during the midnight hours, as the forensic reports told him. Aki Kusagi, aged 28, and John Marrows, aged 31. Both men's murders had happened down on the _other_ side of the city, the shadowed crime-infested streets on the other side of the river that cut through the middle of the city like a crack in the ground, signifying the divide between light and dark. The residents had all been largely unwilling to talk, shaking their heads silently and warily through the small gap through their doors that the chains provided, then shutting the doors. Even when they had flashed their warrants and forced their way in, they refused to speak, only telling him with eyes averted somewhere over shoulder, "I don't know. I haven't seen anything. I don't know."

Kurogane was tempted to file some charges for aiding and abetting, but if he were to do so, he'd have to arrest seven apartment blocks worth of residents, and he didn't think his prisons had enough space for that. It had only been with the murder of John Marrows that they'd found a single person willing to talk. 23-year-old Leah Cummins.

"Fair hair and light eyes," she'd said shortly, "A man. Now, please, _please. _Just get out of here and leave us all alone."

The mumblings of discontent and fear were beginning to stir in the city, and the higher ups had told them to take action, whatever it was, just to show that something was being done about the murders. The truth was that there were many murders undiscovered in the Shadowlands, the somewhat apt nickname for the _other _side of the city, kept hushed and hidden. For those that had come to light, the majority of them were unresolved. The shadowlanders were mostly uncooperative, unwilling to aid the police, always claiming ignorance even when they had been _just there. _It seemed to be warped mindset of 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil'; Mizaru, Kikazaru, Iwazaru. Monkey see, monkey do, it seemed, since everyone did it.

_This_ string of murders however, they had exploded in a chaotic mess of gore and flames, much too vibrant and showy to have been hushed up by the shadowlanders. The flames had been bright enough to attract the attentions of those even from _this _side of the city. He remembered looking out of the window to see the alley set alight from his apartment on the twenty-fifth floor of his building, Looking down at the squat crumbling buildings of the _other_ side—the precise location he'd later learned to be somewhere along Handrivel Lane—he remembered the chill down his spine as he recalled the murder of Aki Kusagi. He was sure that he couldn't have been the only one to have seen it. In fact, the blaze had been prominent enough to appear on the headlines of the newspapers the next morning. Whoever it was, the murderer seemed to be veering deliberately off from the classic 'hush-hush' style of the usual murder cases.

The attention on the case, unfortunately, was what had landed him here, looking through the database and interrogating _every single _fair-headed, light-eyed man in the city. It was a useless show for the people over on this side of the city, and if the case went unresolved, sooner or later a scapegoat would be found. It was an endless depressing cycle over here, a dazzling veneer over the darkness underlying to instill a false sense of comfort in the citizens. Most of the people hauled in had clearly been innocent. Examples included harmless Tsukishiro Yukito: A shadowlander who lived right on the edge of the Shadowlands with his colleague and the man's sister. Kakyou Kuzuki: son of a rich family who couldn't even leave his bed, let alone trek all the way to Handrivel Lane to commit a murder against a hooligan. Another shadowlander, known only as Kakei: a calm man who lived with his lover above his shop, a small department store that Kurogane suspected dealt with drugs.

Of course, that wouldn't be investigated into; just as long as the light wasn't cast over their indiscretions, it would _stay _in the shadows. _That_ was the motto of the police, bringer of _light _and _justice. _Kurogane fights back the urge to spit on the floor by his table. The web of facades and lies that shrouds this place _disgusts _him, and he can't wait to get out of here. It was too bad that all his money is tied in his damn apartment, and he couldn't move until he paid it off (read: never). This place was hell, albeit with less flames and screaming, and a lot more shadowlanders fighting to claw their way out of the dark and those in the light struggling to pay off their debts, incurred by the terrible costs of living over on the _brighter_ side of the city. But he supposes that the flames and screaming element was being brought in with this string of murders.

Three knocks on the door and Syaoran, his wide-eyed secretary who really was too young to be working here, opens the door.

"Kurogane-san," he calls quietly, "The suspect is here."

And a whole lot of suspects they had too. Kurogane sighs.

"Bring him in."

The door slams open with a loud _bang! _Syaoran winces, and in the doorway stands a blonde, blue eyes, absolutely _infuriating _grin.

"Here I am!" he announces, striking a pose, "Fai D. Flourite, at your service!"

Syaoran clears his throat uncomfortably, and shuffles in to place a mug of coffee onto his desk.

"Please err… please take a seat, Flourite-san."

"Fai," the man says happily, _skipping _over, and seating himself on the chair, backwards, with the hard back of it between him and Kurogane, "Call me Fai."

Syaoran backs away slightly from the blinding force of Fai's smile.

"Alright, Fai-san," he acquiesces, "Would you like something to drink?"

It was only courtesy, but '_Fai' _didn't get it, apparently.

"How about tea and biscuits? Five spoons of sugar and two spoons of honey please! And sugared biscuits. No sugar is no fun!"

"That's disgusting," Kurogane finally growls, "And this is an interrogation, _not _a tea-party."

Fai turns around and blinks at him with wide blue eyes, as if only just realizing that Kurogane has been here all along. His face abruptly breaks out once more in a wide grin.

"Then can we have an interrogative tea-party?"

Kurogane slams a hand down on the table with a snarl.

"_No!"_

Fai pouts and rests his chin on the back of the seat (_defensive, closed, something to hide_, his psychology training supplies him as he takes note of the blonde's sitting position).

"What a grouchy puppy…"

"_What did you call me?"_

"Puppy," he repeats, pointing at Kurogane's mug.

Kurogane turns the mug around, and sure enough, there's a puppy scowling cutely at him from its porcelain surface. He feels an overwhelming urge to smash it to the ground.

"Shut up," he snarls, unable to think of a better comeback, "Or I'll have you arrested for err… disrespect to a police officer."

"Can you even do that?"

"_Shut up!" _he yells, trying to fight back his blush at the amused look on the suspect's face, "This is an interrogation, suspect! And you will treat it as—"

"Fai."

He falters.

"What?"

"Call me Fai."

Fai smiles a close-eyed smile at him, and Kurogane narrows his eyes. The smile is cold, almost dangerous, and when blue eyes open to peer at him through blonde lashes, they sparkle almost artificially with cheer.

* * *

Fai D. Flourite. Age: 32 (Almost a _decade _older than him, Kurogane realizes). Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Graduated from a distinguished university with a degree in forensic science. No previous criminal record. Living alone, right on the edge of _this _side of the city.

_A halflight, _Kurogane thinks absently. Halflights are those who live in the small stretch of land right by the river, on _this_ side of the city. The citizens call it Limbo, the in-between. It is the small section of _this _side of the city that the shadows has spread its inky fingers into, like gangrene contaminating previously uninfected skin. These are the people who have succeeded in crawling out of the Shadowlands, but can move no further than the very edge of the river, the Divide. It's _proper _name is the River Sheares, just as the _proper _name for the shadowlanders were the "low-income families". But the citizens likened the River Sheares to a pair of shears, snipping right through the city and dividing it into halves. It's from there that its nickname came about: the Divide.

He clicks the little red x on the corner of the window, closing the suspect's profile. It says that he runs his own business, but _what _business he runs is unspecified. He opens the files on the murder cases, and enters begins to compose his notes and comments on each individual he has met with into something resembling a coherent evaluation. Syaoran comes in a few times with coffee, the final time with a message that the office is closing soon, in addition to the coffee. Kurogane clicks the 'submit' button for his last writeup with unnecessary relish, then begins to close and save files, finally shutting the computer down and standing. He stretches, and groans as his spine pops. He needs to work out more; this job is not something that he had once pictured himself doing, not with the negligent way the authorities are dealing with crimes here.

He snatches his keys from his desk, and his hat and coat from the hatstand and coatrack respectively. He absently notes that there is one more hat left on the stand as he dons his coat. Swinging his keys around his index finger, he leaves the office, dropping his hat over his head as he sets out into the night.

* * *

A call in the middle of the night wakes him. He is _understandably _pissed off when he answers the phone. So it's obviously excusable that the first thing he says to head's secretary when he picks up is:

"It's _four _in the morning. What the _fuck _do you want?"

There is a moment of silence. Kurogane begins to wonder if it is _actually _his boss, calling through Watanuki's mobile (again) and about to sic something on him, cackling madly all the while, using his 'rudeness' as an excuse to do so. Then there is a intake of breath, and Watanuki speaks, quietly.

"Leah Cummins is dead."

Kurogane sucks in a breath, then rocks back against his pillows.

"Dead?" he asks in almost a whisper.

A short pause, in which Watanuki is presumably nodding. (The boy had never quite got over the habit of doing that despite knowing that the person on the other end of the line can't see him.)

"Yes," he whispers back, "But… but not by the same hand as the man who murdered Kusagi and Marrows."

Kurogane slides back down along the headboard, until he is lying down once more.

"How…" he licks his lips, suddenly dry, "How do you know?"

Rustling paper; Watanuki must still be in the office.

"The wounds," the secretary says, "Messy. The murderer clearly had no idea what he or she was doing. The wounds on Kusagi and Marrows were clean, and it seemed like the assailant had no trouble overpowering them. And the wounds on Cummins deviated from the… style."

Gut, castrate, burn. _Style _indeed. He wondered if it were possible for a soul to be so black, that a man could take pride in having a _style _of killing unique to himself.

"Then," he continues, dazedly, not even quite aware of what he is saying anymore, "Motives? Suspects? What are we going to do now?"

It was a long moment before Watanuki spoke.

"Nothing."

"_Nothing?"_

"We do nothing," Watanuki affirms.

Kurogane takes a breath, and closes his eyes.

"She _died," _he begins, fighting to keep the rage out of his voice, "Because she _spoke."_

"Yes," the boy whispers, "Yes, she did."

"And," he continues, enraged whisper rising into a shout, "We are going to do _nothing?"_

The head's secretary sniffles on the other end, and Kurogane immediately feels terrible for yelling. The boy is young, new on the job, and much too kind for his own good. The fool was probably beating himself up about it, _without _Kurogane doing that for him. He takes a deep breath, and tries to calm his temper.

"Sorry," he finally says a little grudgingly; he _hates _apologizing, though he knows that he's wrong here, "I know it's the decision of the higher-ups. I _know. _I'm just…"

He trails off,

"Angry?" Watanuki finishes for him, and chuckles weakly, "Me too. But what can we do? What _can_ we do? The shadows are just running a terrible cycle of crime and destruction. All we can do is to keep the situation from spreading over to _this_ side."

Kurogane laughs bitterly.

"I guess that means we shouldn't even _try."_

Watanuki was silent for a long moment.

"I assume that you know Leah Cummins' murder must be kept confidential," he finally says, all professional detachment once more, "Don't let it get around."

A click. The disconnect tone sounds after a second's lag.

Kurogane presses the end-call button, and sets his phone down on his nightstand. Mizaru. Kikazaru. Iwazaru. See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. Despite what the people on _this_ side preferred to think, that was the code no matter light or dark. And to break the code, was to die.

* * *

**A/N: Surprise, surprise! Well, I did promise to update before leaving so... here it is! I realized that I forgot to say this in the last chapter , but the line "Stars, hide your fires," comes from Macbeth (Shakespeare), which he says in his soliloquy before he murders Duncan. The whole line goes something like "Stars, hide your fires. Let not light see my black and deep desires", which he says in hopes that his murder of his king and guest will not be witnessed (and judged). The murderer is making reference to that, because the midnight toll is strangely apt. The last lines of Macbeth's soliloquy is (in reference to the bell that Lady Macbeth tolls to signal that the coast is clear) "Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven, or to hell". And so the murderer has a morbidly "classy" sense of dark humor. I will say now that there will be nothing more of Macbeth in Moths, that was just to show the murderer's strange sense of humor.**

**Oh, and Mizaru, Kikazaru, and Iwazaru are the three wise monkeys. You know, the famous ones with the covering of eyes, ears, and mouth? The original morales of it was probably not this twisted, the idea of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil is completely warped here.**

**Also, I'm like racking my brains for something to call Kurogane's side of the city! I currently call the two halves '正' (zheng) and '负' (fu) in my head, which are Chinese words means positive and negative (respectively). 正 is particularly apt for the lighted side of the city (to me at least), because it also means noble and just. It has a personal connotation to me as self-righteous (which is not always good), which perfectly suits the lighted side of the city. This is a PERSONAL connotation, don't go telling your Chinese teacher, or a Chinese-speaking person that 正 has negative connotations! I originally labeled the two halves '正'(zheng) and '邪'(xie), which means more towards the lines of good and evil, because I watch too much wuxia, aka olden day setting Chinese fighting shows.**

**Anyway,**** this A/N is getting totally out of hand (too long!) so I'm going to end off now. I hope you enjoyed, and please review! (I need to go sleep because I have a plane to catch at 4am tomorrow morning.)**


	3. The Murder of Mikhail Antolev

**Summary: A third man has been murdered. New and old suspects are all brought in again.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

It is with a detached sense of horror that he comes to office to see blonde hair, blue eyes, and that familiar grin. Fai is leaning over the counter, saying something to the receptionist with a cheeky grin, and Tomoyo is _giggling._

"Oi, you pervert!" Kurogane finds himself yelling before he can censor his words, "What the hell do you think you're doing to Tomoyo?"

Fai tilts his hat (it looks strangely familiar) and winks at Tomoyo before turning to face Kurogane.

"Talking," he says, and bats his eyelashes like a goddamned doll, "About you."

Kurogane splutters in outrage, and Tomoyo erupts into full-blown laughter behind the desk.

"My brother is _such_ a bad sport," Tomoyo sighs.

Fai blinks.

"You're siblings?"

"No," Kurogane grunts, "Cousins."

"Siblings!" Tomoyo argues.

"Cousins!" Kurogane corrected once more, "This stopped being funny when we were five, Tomoyo!"

"We're as good as siblings," Tomoyo insists stubbornly, "You play up the overprotective brother too well."

Fai chuckles.

"You can't argue with that, Kuro-pup," he tells him, and Kurogane bristles.

"Kurogane!" he yells, "My _name _is Kurogane! And how the hell do you know my name? I haven't told you my name, you crazy stalker!"

Fai sighs and pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the counter, crossing his legs.

"Of that I am well aware," he deigns to inform Kurogane coolly, "I know your name because, as I have just told you, I was talking to Tomoyo-chan _about _you. By the way, I think you should know that it was incredibly rude of you to have left me not knowing your name, seeing as you know _my _name. Kuro-inattentive needs some lessons in manners!"

"You—" Kurogane splutters, brandishing a finger at the blonde fool, "I— What the hell are you even _doing _here?"

The man in question taps a finger against the side of his hat, and smiles.

"I left my hat yesterday," he says simply, "I came to get it back."

Kurogane suddenly remembered the hat he'd seen as he'd left the office the night before. The same hat is now atop Fai's blonde head.

"Why the hell did you leave it here in the first place?"

Blue eyes twinkled mirthfully at him from under the hat's rim.

"Is this an interrogation, Kuro-sleuth?" Fai asked, amused, "If so, we'd best take this to your office, yes?"

And without waiting for an answer, the _infuriating _blonde leaps down from the desk, and invites himself into Kurogane's office. Kurogane scrambles after him, catching the door before it can close in his face.

"Hey, _hey!" _he yells after the man, "Who needs a lesson in manners now?"

Fai is bouncing in the chair opposite from Kurogane's own, a strange look on his face.

"The chair seems a little bouncier than yesterday," he says, "Bounce. Bounce."

Kurogane snarls and storms in, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Oooo," Fai says, staring at him with childishly wide eyes, "Scary."

The investigator ignores him.

"That's a _wooden _chair," he tells him, wrenching him out of the seat, "It can't _get _any bouncier."

Fai makes a _horrible _whining sound, like a spoilt child.

"I want to sit," he protests, pouting sullenly as he pulls his arm from Kurogane's grip and plops himself back down into the chair, "And I want tea and biscuits. The biscuits here are good."

"This is _not _a goddamned tea-party! And we don't _have _tea and biscuits!"

"Yes, you do."

"No, we don't!"

"You do!" Fai insists, "I had them yesterday!"

"We _don't!" _Kurogane shouts, "Yesterday I told you you couldn't have any, so you had none, dumbass!"

"Syaoran-kun gave me some when I left your office."

"No, we—wait, _what?"_

"Syaoran-kun gave me tea and biscuits," Fai informs him, "The biscuits were good. The tea was okay; there's no honey here."

"Since when do we have biscuits?"

"Since always," Fai shrugs, "I dunno. You had biscuits yesterday. And isn't it terrible that I, who have only been here once, know that you have biscuits, and you don't?"

"We don't have biscuits!" Kurogane insists, still disbelieving, "We don't!"

"You do!"

"We don't!"

"You _do!"_

"No, we don't!" roars the sleuth, "And if you disagree with that you can get out of my office!

Fai looks at him for a long moment with wide eyes and downturned lips. Kurogane wonders for a moment if he's gone too far _again _as Fai's bottom lip begins to tremble. Then the man slides off his chair, dropping to his knees on the floor, and begins to shake his fists up at the ceiling.

"What a way to treat your wife!" Fai wails, shaking his fists once more before hunching over his knees and pounding his fists against the carpet, and then straightening up to shake his fists at the ceiling again, "Are you going to throw me out into the streets? Cruel. _Cruel!"_

Kurogane grabs the man by his blonde, blonde hair and attempts to tug him up to his feet.

"I am _not _married, and you are _not _my wife!"

Fai starts to make an _unholy _din, shrieking and yelling and flailing the likes of which Kurogane had never seen before. The man suddenly lunges forwards, and sinks his teeth into Kurogane's knee.

"_Fuck!" _Kurogane yells at the top of his lungs, knees Fai in the gut, and topples backwards—like a plank—to land with a _whump! _on the carpet. When he gets over his shock at being bitten, _bitten! _by a grown man, he sits up and opens his mouth to yell at said man. Fai is sprawled across the carpet on his back, arms and legs out in a perfect X, eyes closed in a strangely solemn expression.

Kurogane shuffles closer gives the man a wary poke, on the leg, in case the man decides to try and bite his finger off. When there is no response, he crawls over and shakes Fai by the shoulder.

"Oi," he calls, "Oi! Idiot! You okay? Oi, answer me!"

"I am giving you the silent treatment," Fai announces with his eyes still closed, expression unchanging from its solemnity, as if he is merely reading the morning newspaper out to him, "I may be Kuro-neanderthal's cavewoman wife, but Kuro-caveman may not drag me to bed by the hair until you have _properly _propositioned me."

That said, he makes a motion as if pulling a zip across his lips, then reverts back to playing his strange parody of a corpse.

"You—" Kurogane splutters, "What—You can't—"

Fai is unmoving on the floor in front of him.

"You _do _realize that my office is as good as the police station, don't you?" Kurogane tries to reason, "You can't just… lie there like that!"

Silence meets his statement.

"Get up, suspect!" he tries again, deepening his voice for the effect of it, "I command you!"

The blonde ignores him. Kurogane caves.

"Okay fine!" he yells, sitting back on his heels like a sullen child, "What the hell do you want me to do to make it up to you? Just tell me what the fuck it is and I'll do it. _Happy?"_

Fai immediately springs up with a cry of delight, launching himself at the investigator and choking Kurogane in what seemed to be a murderer's version of a hug.

"I knew it!" he crows, "I _knew_ Kuro-hubby loved me!"

Kurogane is too short of breath to protest the sentiment _and _the nickname. Fai abruptly lets go and sits back, blinking up at him with big, blue eyes.

"I want tea and biscuits!"

"Tea and biscuits again?"

"You said you'd make it up to me!"

"Fine," Kurogane acquiesces, standing back and throwing his hands up, "_Fine! _I'll go look in the kitchen for your damn tea, _okay?"_

"And biscuits," Fai reminds him, "And I want you to take me out for lunch,"

"_That wasn't part of the deal!"_

"It is now," the blonde tells him triumphantly, standing up and dusting himself off, then holding his hand out, "Now kiss my hand, take my arm, and bring me to a nice restaurant."

Kurogane turns sharply away with a snarl, and storms out of his office.

An hour or so later, he is horrified to realize that he is sitting in a nice restaurant with Fai, handing his credit card to the waiter to pay for the meal.

* * *

The smell of miso is nostalgic as he spoons the paste into the hot water. He adds in the diced tofu, and just a bit of seaweed, then the fishcake and spring onions. Stirs. He can't really cook anything much, completely unlike his mother, who was (and is) the best cook that ever was. Even now, as he cooks, his mother is giving him instructions over the phone.

"Did you clean the spoon before putting in the spring onions?"

He paused mid-stir.

"No," he says, "Are the onions going to burn or something?"

His mother exhales over the phone.

"No, it's not going to burn," she sighs, "But you've just gotten the miso paste on the rest of the spring onions in the jar. Have you put in the seaweed?"

"Yes," he tells her, and resumes stirring.

"Do you keep your seaweed sliced in a jar?"

"Yes," he tells her, "Just like you used to."

He's always liked his seaweed sliced into tiny pieces, and his mother had taken to keeping them in a jar instead of cutting them up on the spot.

"Then did you clean the spoon before putting it into the jar?"

He pauses again, and his mother sighs.

"Youou," she says, with a tinge of fond exasperation, "How do you survive without your mother, hmm?"

"Ha_haue_," he complains (and he is _not _whining), "I'm _fine. _I can take care of myself. I'm 25!"

He stirs a little more, then adds more seaweed on second consideration. As he upturns the spoon over the pot, he realizes that there _is _seaweed stuck to the miso paste on the back of it. Well. He dunks the spoon back into the water and hits it against the side of the pot; the seaweed and miso refuses to come dislodged.

"Honey, what are you doing?" his mother asks, "I can hear clanging."

"There's seaweed and miso paste on my spoon."

"Don't mind that, it doesn't matter. You can wash it off later."

"But the seaweed will go to waste."

"So many 'but's," she teases lightly, "If it really bothers you, you can lick it off the spoon."

Kurogane lifts the spoon out of the water and does so. He makes a face.

"But the miso paste is salty," he complains, and his mother laughs.

"Of course it is," she says, "But if it'll make you feel better, if you stir a bit longer the miso paste will dissolve, and the seaweed will come off."

She suddenly makes a strange noise and Kurogane pauses, just about to put his spoon back into the soup.

"But don't put it _in!" _she cries, "You just had the spoon in your mouth!"

He pauses for a moment longer, then throws the spoon in anyway.

"Youou. You just put it in anyway, didn't you?"

"Hahaue," he complains, "It doesn't matter! I'm the only one drinking the soup!"

"It _does_ matter!" his mother argues, "It's the principle of the matter!"

"Why is there a principle in cooking miso soup?" he demands as he resumes stirring. And exactly as his mother predicts, the miso begins to dissolve, and the seaweed comes right off.

"Well, you can't do that when you're cooking for someone else, can you?" his mother reasons, exasperated.

"But I _won't _be cooking for someone else," he argues back, "I live alone!"

He clamps the phone between his shoulder and ear, turns the stove off, and pours the miso soup out into a large bowl on the counter. He's not going to be able to drink all of it, but he'll keep the remainder in the fridge and microwave it to go with his meals and as late-night snacks. On the other end of the line, his mother 'tsk's at him.

"What about when you get a girlfriend? Or when you get married!"

He carries the pot, spoon and all, and sets it in the sink. The neon green display on the clock on the window-sill reads 12:03. He turns on the tap as his mother continues to talk about marriage and children and love, and looks up, out of the window. He freezes.

On the other side of the river, he can see an orange glow lighting up the shadows, flickering and crackling angrily. The sky above it is thick with smoke, as if boding a coming storm, and behind the smoke are the_ real_ storm-clouds, lit up from within by sparks of lightning. The thunder rumbles menacingly, and he cuts his mother off mid-sentence.

"Hahaue," he whispers, "Something has come up, I have to go."

He hangs up without waiting for a reply, and runs out of the house, donning his hat and coat as he goes. The tap continues to run in the kitchen as, outside, the rain begins to fall.

* * *

It's no surprise to find Yuuko waiting for him when he enters the office the next day, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant. Yesterday night had been hell, and he'd almost just called in sick and slept in this morning. The rain had been pouring as he'd run out trying to flag a cab. Good for the lucky bastards who had cars, but he didn't because… well, cars were _expensive. _By the time he had reached the scene of the crime, The flames had been put out, and the forensics had been mulling around inside the gutter like ants. It had been a large gutter, those almost as wide as a small apartment, built to prevent flash floods around the Divide. When it rained, the dams blocking the underground drains leading to the gutters were lifted, and the water would be distributed to the gutters that were usually dry. The rush of water had ultimately been what had put the fire out, and also caused havoc as the forensics had been scrambling about in the rain, trying to get the charred body out before it could be swept away.

Leading away from the dead body had been bloodied footprints, slightly watered down by the rain, like the trail of a vengeful ghost. It had been clear that the culprit has deliberately left the trail, knowing that he couldn't be traced from it. And he had been right. They had been unable to find anything from the footprints, not even the pattern of his sole, watered down as it had been from the rain. Kurogane with a group of others had ran down the trail, trying vainly to follow it to some location that could give them a lead, but the rain had washed it all away before they could even trace it around the corner.

Yuuko reaches behind her to retrieve a folded newspaper, and tosses it to him. Kurogane catches it and opens it up. On the very front page, yesterday's incident has made headlines: _Serial murderer strikes again! Body of 37-year-old Mikhail Antolev found castrated and burnt in a gutter. _He ignores the rest of the article, detailing the incident and the victim's background, and looks up at Yuuko. She crosses her legs, revealing a long line of pale skin through her pencil skirt, and inclines her head.

"The suspects are being called in again," she tells him simply, "They will be here shortly."

She pushes herself off from the counter, stilettos clicking on the tiled floor. She brushes her skirt down, adjusts the ruffles of her blouse, pushes her red-rimmed glasses up, then stares down her long nose at Kurogane with equally red eyes, half-lidded.

"Have a good day, Investigator Youou Kurogane Suwa."

She turns, and leaves the office, stilettos clicking a sharp staccato as she does.

Kurogane plops down onto the lobby's sofa, groaning and he massages the throbbing spot between his brows. The suspects begin to trail in through the door, looking confused and lost. A green-eyed, chestnut-brown brunette (_what? _he wasn't even _that_ fair-haired!) marched up to him.

"Look, I know that Kakei-san is a suspect, and as a person working for him, I must seem pretty suspicious too," he rattles off immediately, and Kurogane stares up at him, trying to remember where he'd heard the name 'Kakei' before, "But I am innocent! And I have more than sufficient evidence to prove that I was not even _remotely _near the crime scene yesterday night!"

The boy—because he was too young to be a man—begins to dig through his bag, and Kurogane slumps into the sofa.

"Who the hell are you?"

The kid doesn't even look up at him, and continues to rummage through his bag.

"Kazahaya Kudou," he says shortly, and finally draws a crumpled piece of paper out of his bag, "I was having a late night snack with my co-worker, Rikuo Himura at a fast-food joint during the time of the incident. I have the receipt!"

He thrusts the wrinkled receipt at Kurogane, and Kurogane looks at the paper for a moment, still a little dazed.

"Alright," he says, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

"Alright?" Kazahaya repeats hopefully, "So I can go?"

"No," he says without opening his eyes, "You will stay for interrogation."

"What?" the boy demands incredulously, panic beginning to seep into his voice, "But I just provided evidence that I am not involved!"

Kurogane groans and slowly gets to his feet. With some amusement, he notes the widening of the boy's eyes as Kurogane unfolds himself to his full height.

"I know. And I'm not saying that the evidence isn't sufficient," he says, popping his spine, "Tell me about it later in my office and I'll take you off the list. The receptionist will send you in one by one."

Kazahaya turns to look at the conspicuously vacant reception desk.

"There _is _no receptionist," he says, somewhat accusingly.

Kurogane shrugs.

"It's early, you people are gonna have to wait for her to come," he cracks his knuckles, and Kazahaya jerks a little, "In the meantime, I'm going to make some coffee. It's way too early for this shit."

Turning away from the kid, he rolls his neck with a _crack! _and saunters slowly into the office pantry.

* * *

He is too tired to feel anything but a dull dread when his door swigs open to admit a grin that really should not feel that familiar after only two short (albeit memorable) meetings.

"No," he groans, "No, no! Not _you!"_

Fai lets the door swing shut behind him, and swings his cane as he sashays over with a pout. He tips his hat off and settles himself flirtatiously on the edge of the desk, tickling a finger under Kurogane's chin.

"Oh, _monsieur!" _he cries with a disgustingly thick accent, " 'ow you wound me, mon amour! And 'zis is 'ow you treat your épouse bien-aimée? Mon cher, you disappoint!" (1)

Kurogane jerks his face away from Fai's finger, and presses right up against the back of his chair, glaring sullenly at the blonde.

"Come closer Kuro-aimé," Fai whispers in a sultry voice, lying over Kurogane's desk in an attempt to wrap his arms around his neck, "Ne pas être un inconnu, I won't bite!" (2)

"You think I'm going to believe you after you bit me the last time?"

He cringes and slaps Fai's arms away as the man begins to make kissing noises, puckering his lips comically. Fai laughs and rolls off of the desk, settling himself into the chair opposite.

"Well, I'd love to play more," he says, leaning his elbow of the desk and resting his chin in his palm, "But I _do _have to get back to work, so I guess it's best to start the interrogation, yes?

Kurogane clears his throat and aligns the papers on his desk.

"Alright, then let's start with that," he declares, "What do you do for a living?"

Fai leans slightly forward.

"Sounds more like you're trying to get to know me better," he teases, "But isn't that in the government database?"

Kurogane picks up his pen and writes the date on the top corner of the paper in front of him.

"It says that you own a business, but it doesn't say _what _business you own."

The blonde chuckles and leans back in his seat, crossing his legs and folding his arms over his chest. _(defensive, closed, hiding)_

"I run a… cafe. Of sorts," he says, mock-grandly, "I live above the cafe."

"A cafe?" Kurogane asks casually, making a little bit of small-talk to bring the suspect's guard down, "So you cook? What sort of food do you serve?"

"I _don't _cook," Fai tell him, "I used to, but I don't any more. My little _protége _takes care of the food now. I just sit around and look pretty."

"Protege?"

"Yes. She is very sweet, and she is a fast learner too."

"I see," Kurogane says somewhat absently, scribbling down little notes, "I may have to come down one day to taste the food."

Fai smiles, and his smile seems almost bitter.

"As if a man like you would _ever _come down to Limbo."

Kurogane blinks and looks up at the man. Fai wipes the smile off his face, replacing it with his usual inane one as he laughs airily. Kurogane wonders if he thinks he is fooling _anyone._ Three knocks on the door, and Syaoran peers in. Normally he gets as long with the suspect as he wants, but with this many suspects waiting outside, they're on a bit of a tight schedule. But it's not like the higher ups are expecting _real _results anyway.

"Time's up," Syaoran says quietly, "We're sending Kotori Monou in."

A girl comes in, blinking confusedly, and Kurogane groans.

"Are they really that desperate?" he rages, "She's not even a _man!"_

Fai stands and saunters out of the room. He stops at the doorway and turns to give Kurogane a sultry, half-lidded glance over his shoulder. This time when he speaks, his accent is less exaggerated. It sounds natural, and pleasant even.

"Au revoir, mon chéri." (3)

He blows a kiss, tips his hat, then slams the door shut before Kurogane can throw something at him. Kurogane can hear him laughing as he makes his way out of the office.

* * *

**A/N: I'm back from overseas! Okay, so translations for what Fai was saying...**

**(1) Oh, mister (boy that sounds strange in english)! How you wound me, my love! And this is how you treat your beloved wife? My dear, you disappoint!**

**(2) Come closer Kuro-love. Don't be a stranger, I won't bite!**

**(3) Till next time (sort of), darling.**

**I actually had this written before I left, but I decided to post it up only after coming back because I needed to do some proofreading. I actually got back from the airport two hours ago! Anyway, I realized as I was writing this chapter I realized I made a mistake in the last. In the last chapter when Kurogane finds out that Fai is 32, he notes that Fai is more than a decade older than him. I think I meant to say almost a decade older, because Kurogane would be super young if he were younger than 22. So I have gone back and changed it to almost a decade. And I'd originally wanted to have Kuro-mama killed off before the start of this story, thus inspiring Kurogane's aspiration to be a investigator! But in the end, I loved her too much to have her dead, so Kuro-mama is still alive, together with Kuro-papa. Anyway, ending off my author's note here, review please!**


	4. The Murder of Tsu Zaileng

**Summary: A third man has been murdered. New and old suspects are all brought in again.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

The moon was out, and across the Divide, Kurogane could see the clocktower standing erect amongst the skyscrapers, its face glowing brightly. It marks the center of the central business district, where all the money was. The citizens commented bitterly that the amount of money one had could be gauged by the clocktower. And it was true to a certain extent that those with the money generally lived around the tower, and the less affluent further away. The citizens called it the Candle. And from here, so far away, Kurogane supposes it really _does _look an awful lot like a candle, straight and tall with a glowing disk of light right at the top. In fact, the buildings on the other side of the river looked like a monstrous _birthday cake _from here in the shadows. The other side of the river houses a massive block of tall, lighted buildings, towering above the squat brick flats of the shadowlands that are lit only by the scarce, flickering streetlights.

Kurogane sighs, and briefly shines his torch into a dark alley. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he continues on flashing a disk of light onto the floor in front of him. It really _is _dark in the Shadowlands. As he is about to reach the end of the block, Syaoran pops out from around the corner, sees him out of the corner of his eye, and makes a strange squeaking noise as he drops his torch. The torch rolls down the pavement towards him, so Kurogane stoops down and picks it up with a sigh. Syaoran throws him a sheepish glance as he hands it back to him.

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

They turn and walk together, back towards the direction of the Divide.

"Are you going back too, Kurogane-san?"

Kurogane nods.

"Just till the bridge, then I'm off patrol. You?

"Me too."

The two walk back in silence, flashing their torches down the dark sidelines as they go. Once they think they see movement, but it was just a cat, an orange tabby with fiery fur, and the yellowest eyes they had ever seen. It was clean and fed, unlike the bedraggled strays they'd seen earlier, and it hissed loudly at them. Kurogane growled back at it and it darted away towards the clocktower, meows loud and sharp enough that they echoed clearly through the silent streets. It had probably wandered down from the other side.

"Stupid cat."

Syaoran chuckles.

"I'd always thought Kurogane-san would be a dog-person."

Finally, they reach the bridge, and Kurogane turns to Syaoran. The both of them are squinting slightly from the sudden brightness after hours and hours of roaming the shadows. Ahead of them is Limbo, a sort of ghostly half-bright-half-dark place, as if it can't quite decide which side of the city it belongs to.

"You going home?" he asks as they make their way across the bridge, "I'm taking a cab back up, so you want a lift or something?"

Syaoran looks uncomfortable as he looks at his shoes, picking at his uniform and fidgeting.

"Actually, I err…" he begins, "I… I live here."

Kurogane blinks.

"You're a shadowlander?"

"No, no, I mean…" Syaoran waves towards the lights, "I live _here."_

Syaoran is a _halflight. _Kurogane feels ashamed that he never knew, nor never thought to ask. He'd just assumed that people generally worked in the area they stayed in.

"Oh," he says, and racks his brain for something to say that will stop Syaoran's embarrassed fidgeting, "Alright."

He pauses as they reach a junction, waiting for the green man.

"I'll walk you home."

Syaoran jumps a little, and looks at him with wide amber eyes.

"It's alright, Kurogane-san!" he reassured him, waving his hands vigorously, flustered, "You don't have to do that!"

"Nonsense," Kurogane replies, and begins walking as the red man turns green, "It's already midnight, it's not safe for you to be wandering around so late at night."

He gestures towards the clocktower, and true enough when they crane their necks, its face reads 12:11.

"Is it really alright?" Syaoran asks sheepishly.

Kurogane sighs, and reaches over to ruffle the boy's hair.

"It is."

They stop at the next traffic light, but Syaoran shakes his head and jabs his thumb to the side, turning to walk down the pavement.

"My place is this way."

Kurogane jams his hands in his pocket, and follows beside the boy. There are people are walking quickly towards them from the other end, heads down and hands in their pockets. They barely glance at the two of them as they make beelines for their respective apartments, and shut the door behind them with a tone of finality. Syaoran chuckles awkwardly.

"Sorry," he says quietly, "I don't know what's wrong today. Us halflights aren't normally like this."

"It's alright, sometimes people—"

Kurogane stops in his tracks, eyes widening.

There's a orange glow over the buildings ahead of them. Smoke rises angrily into the sky like a hoard of demons, congregating in the sky above them and sealing out the moon and the stars. Even as they stand there, stunned on the pavement, people are walking briskly away from the flames, never running, heads down.

Kurogane breaks into a run, Syaoran sprinting along beside him. The acrid fumes sweep over them as if they've just flown into a thunder cloud, and Syaoran begins to cough. They both pull their shirts up over their noses, and continue running. Kurogane can't see where he's going, and at one point he crashes into a trashcan, but he just keeps on running, hopefully towards the direction of the fire. He doesn't know what he's doing, perhaps hoping that by some stroke of luck he will bump into the murderer in this haze and be able to apprehend the man without getting himself killed. _Killed. _He suddenly starts, and reaching wildly around himself for Syaoran. What if the kid ran into the murderer in the smoke?

"_Kid?"_

Muffled, from a distance, he hears Syaoran's reply.

"I'm over here!" he chokes, "I'm going back out, I think I'm going to collapse soon…"

Syaoran breaks off in a fit of coughing.

"_Go!" _Kurogane yells, "I'm going on this way!"

He stays long enough to hear Syaoran's affirmative, then continues running forward. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows that if he keeps running in one direction, he will eventually be able to find a way out of the smoke. He just hopes he can get out before he collapses.

When he gets out of the smoke, its so sudden that he falls to the pavement, on his hands and knees, and begins coughing and coughing and coughing. The smoke is continuing to spread outwards, people in the apartments upstairs are beginning to shut their windows, so he forces himself to his feet. As he looks up, he sees a hooded figure ahead, the very edge of his coat whipping around the corner. He dashes the sweat out of his eyes, and makes a full sprint towards the direction he'd seen the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that in every single window, the curtains have been drawn. For those that haven't been, disembodied arms appear from within the darkness of the apartments to draw them sharply closed.

As he skids around the next corner, he makes eye contact with the murderer for a heart-stopping second. He is too far away to actually make out the color of his eyes, or any other distinguishing features, but for a moment the murderer stares at him, about the turn the next corner. Then the murderer turns and flees, and Kurogane gives chase. There is a loud clatter, and low cursing. Kurogane pushes himself forward with a burst of speed and energy, turning sharply around the corner.

A man is crouched on the floor just by a trashcan, as if in the process of getting up. He meets wide blue eyes for frozen split-second, and then he is tumbling heads over ass onto the pavement, tangled up in someone else's long limbs and beige trench coat. He ends up sprawled over the concrete, half on top of the person before him and panting wildly after his long sprint.

"Kuro-rin?" gasps a horribly familiar voice from below him.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows to meet blue eyes. Fai is lying on the pavement below him, surprised and winded, blonde hair splayed out around his face like a halo.

"_You again?"_

"It's nice to see you too," Fai says breathlessly, "But you're squishing Hien and you need to get _off!"_

Fai shoves at Kurogane's shoulders, _hard, _and he quickly gets to his feet. He is suddenly made aware of an almost indignant meowing as Fai cradles something furry to his chest.

"Oh, my poor little kitty," he coos, still breathless, "Did the big, bad puppy hurt you?"

A loud meow.

Kurogane peers slightly over and balks at the sight of disgruntled yellow eyes. The orange tabby hisses angrily at him.

"Hien doesn't like you," Fai notes, and scratches her behind the ears.

"That cat is _yours?"_

The blonde plants a disgustingly loud kiss atop the cat's head, and glares up at Kurogane.

"Of course she's mine," he pauses, "Well, sort of. I didn't buy her or anything, but I feed her and she comes looking for me. If you know what I mean."

The cat meows again, and rubs up against Fai's abdomen.

"People are mean to Hien," Fai complains, "Like you, and like that crazy cosplayer that bulldozed around the corner like all of hell's hounds were snapping at his ankles! He didn't even _apologize_ for knocking me over!"

"Oh _god!" _Kurogane cries, "That _guy! _Shit! Where did he go?"

Fai laughs and continues to stroke his damned cat.

"Why? Did he mug Kuro-pup or something?"

"Did you see where he went?" Kurogane demands, "This is important, fool!"

Fai blinks up at him for a moment, and Kurogane felt like reaching down and strangling the bloody idiot. Finally, the blonde points towards another road across from them.

"He went that way," he says, "Do you have something embarrassing in your wallet or something?"

Kurogane ignores him and dashes off down the road, leaving Fai sitting confused on the pavement, cat purring contentedly in his lap.

* * *

The papers land with a _thwap! _on his desk. He traces up the print, up manicured fingers and white-cuffed sleeve to crimson eyes.

"Tsu Zaileng," Yuuko says, "Twenty-three."

Kurogane shuffles through the papers, scanning through the man's background information, briefly glancing at a photo of him. Not extraordinarily handsome, nor extraordinarily ugly. He looked normal, like any other guy on the street. A halflight, and a "freelance computer programmer". But everyone knew what a "freelance computer programmer" in Limbo meant.

A hacker.

There weren't a lot of those in the Shadowlands, not with the sheer amount of money their equipment cost. No, the hackers were all in Limbo. Rich enough to cross the Divide, but limited in their climb by their professions. Limbo was the place dark met light, where wealthy clients went to make illegal deals. Moving out of Limbo meant that they would lose these clients. Finally, after skimming through a little of the writeup near the back, Kurogane clears his throat and straightens the stack of papers.

"The victim, I presume?"

Yuuko nods.

"Killed the same way as the last three."

Kurogane slowly reaches forward for his mug of coffee.

"I thought that would be obvious from the blaze," he grumbles quietly to himself, "Everyone saw it."

Yuuko snags the mug from his grasping fingertips. She lifts it up to eye level, turning it slightly.

"A puppy?" she asks after a moment's pause, sounding amused, "How fitting."

She turns the mug around. A black puppy stares at him from its white porcelain surface. Kurogane snatches the mug from her painted talons and slams it down on his desk with more force than strictly required. He's throwing that mug out the moment that witch leaves his office.

"Did you want something, _witch?" _he growls.

Yuuko 'tsk's at him patronizingly, and Kurogane feels his eyebrow twitch.

"Is that the way you address your boss, my dear investigator?"

"Should you refrain from making smalltalk with a subordinate, head of investigations?"

"Snarky," Yuuko croons with a playful wink before seating herself across the table, "But alright. Let's get down to business."

She stares at him for a long moment, an enigmatic half-smile on her face as her crimson nails clack rhythmically on the rich mahogany of his desk.

"We've identified a main suspect," she finally announces. The smile spreads slightly and she tilts her head at him, "Fai D. Flourite."

Kurogane's gaze immediately snaps from the papers in front of him to her smirking face.

"_Him?" _he demands incredulously, "Are you fucking _serious?"_

Yuuko only nods at him, batting her eyelashes.

"Very," she baby-talks, bending over to tweak his nose, "So serious, in fact, that we've assigned you to keep a watch on him, set up cameras in his house, hover over him, _oh! _Maybe you could even have a sleepover! You know, make sure he isn't out at incriminating times and all. Unofficial house-arrest, if you will. Perhaps you should move in with him! Yes, I think that sounds good. Investigator, you are to move in with the suspect by tomorrow!"

Kurogane snaps at her finger, and Yuuko draws back, pouting.

"_What?" _he snarls, "You want _me _to move in with _him? _What the fuck, witch? And by tomorrow too! Can't I at least have until the end of the week?"

The head of investigations only stands, smoothing her skirt down and adjusting the elaborate coiffure atop her head.

"That mug really is fitting," she tells him with an indignant sniff, "By tomorrow. Perhaps Fai can train you to be a better puppy and not bite your boss."

She turns on her stilettoed heel and marches towards the door.

"You—" Kurogane splutters, shooting out of his seat in outrage.

Yuuko stops at the doorway and turns to wink at him, wriggling her fingers in farewell.

"Tata for now, Investigator Kurogane Suwa."

And slams the door as Kurogane reaches for that damned mug so that he can throw it at her smirking face.

* * *

And so Kurogane has to take public transport—sandwiched like a sardine in a bus of people that _actually _smell like sardines—all the way to the edge of Limbo with all his luggage. The bus lines end a short distance from Limbo, the subway even further back, so Kurogane fets off at the last stop and begins to walk. It takes awhile, but finally the ghostly haze of dim lights so typical of Limbo envelops him like fog.

It is then he realizes he has no idea where Fai lives.

About half an hour of aimless wandering later, he swallow his pride and begins to ask around. The second person he asks blinks with wide green eyes, tilting her head slightly.

"You're looking for Fai-san?" she asks, eying him strangely, "Are you a client? Have you made an appointment?"

Fai's cafe must be some pretty big one if you needed an appointment to eat there, Kurogane mused.

"I'm not a client," he tells her, "So I don't have an appointment."

The girl lights up in sudden understanding.

"Then you know Fai-san personally?" she asks eagerly, "You've come to visit him?"

"Sort of, but this isn't much of a visit," he admits.

She beams at him in response and begins to drag him away by the hand. He quickly grabs the handle of his luggage and pulls it along behind him.

"It's good that Fai-san is beginning to make friends!" she chatters happily, "He's been so distant since—"

She breaks off suddenly, looking guilty.

"Since?" Kurogane prompts.

The girl only shakes her head.

"I'm not supposed to say," she tells him sadly, then smiles a little awkwardly, "I'm Sakura. What's your name, sir?"

"Investigator Kurogane Suwa," he says solemnly, "Here on business."

Sakura falters, suddenly looking unsure.

"Investigator?" she repeats, "Investigating Fai-san?"

"Yes."

She stops completely, face hidden by her auburn bangs. Kurogane stops behind her, suddenly wary. She has led them down a maze of empty back-alleys, and there is no one else around. He curses himself for being so careless in the face of Sakura's youth, gender, and friendliness. She is still holding onto his hands with one of hers, so he carefully watches her other for movement; she could be hiding a gun or some other weapon somewhere under that poofy dress. For the first time, he realizes that she is in some sort of French maid dress. Not the kinky kinds, but the long modest ones.

"Fai-san isn't doing anything wrong," she whispers, "He isn't!"

She whips around, and Kurogane takes a step back from the desperation in her eyes.

"Fai-san is kind!" she tells him, almost pleadingly, "He isn't like a criminal at all! He helps people find jobs! Like me! He hired me even though I live in the Shadowlands, s that I'd have a chance to cross the Divide. And everyone else too! He's always helping people to—"

Rowdy shouting and clattering interrupts her from around the corner. They both turn in time to see two men wrestling against one another; one in an untucked white dress-shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the other in an expensive looking business suit, ruffled and crinkled. Kurogane starts forward to break them up, but at that precise mount, the one in the white shirt lands a punch in the other's gut. The man wheezes and slumps.

"My girls are too young for you, valued customer," says a familiar voice in an unfamiliarly venomous tone.

Fai props the man up a little with one arm, and lands another solid punch. The man in the business suit gaps and slides to the floor, clutching his stomach. Fai stares down at him for a moment; Kurogane watches the back of his blonde head and tries to imagine what his face would look like. Finally, Fai draws his foot back and kicks the man in the ribs, hard. He lands two more blows, then hauls the man up and tosses him bodily down a nearby side alley.

"Don't come back," he hisses, dusting his hands off.

Sakura takes an uncertain step forward.

"Fai-san?" she calls timidly.

Fai whips around, blue eyes wide in surprise.

"Sakura-chan?" he inquires, "What are you doing here?"

Sakura procures a little brown paper package from within the folds of her dress.

"I went out to buy groceries," she explains.

Fai frowned.

"It's not safe for a young girl like you to be back here alone," he chides, "Next time get Masayoshi-kun to do it, or come by the front. Did anything happen?"

"No, nothing happened," Sakura reassures him, looking chastised, "Kurogane-san was with me."

Fai's gaze immediately flicks to him.

"Kuro-chi," he says with a wide, fake smile, "Never thought I'd see you here."

Kurogane's eyes are automatically drawn down as Fai discreetly pulls his sleeves down. His forearms are corded with sinewy muscles, stretched taunt over bone, and Kurogane is surprised at the strength in them, remembering the man's playful demeanor and whimsical fancies. But that is not what ultimately draws his eye. The skin of Fai's forearms are wrinkled and discolored.

_Burn scars._

"Did you want something?" Fai enquires with false politeness, "Or did you come all the way here just to see me?"

Kurogane's gaze immediately snaps back up to that empty, porcelain smile. He clears his throat.

"Here on business," he grunts, searching through his coat for his warrant, and holding it out, "I'm to… move in with you. To keep an eye on you. Seems like the higher ups think you're suspicious enough to qualify as a main suspect."

Kurogane didn't think it was possible, but Fai's smile becomes even more false, eyes even more insincere. Empty, like a smiling doll.

"I'm afraid that's simply not possible," he says, winking playfully, "There is no room at my place for you to stay and I'm not one to sleep with someone after one date. Maybe you should take me out again."

Kurogane sighs.

"I'll take the couch or the floor," he compromises grudgingly, thrusting his hands into his pockets, "My boss says I gotta move in by tomorrow. Witch."

Fai is silent for a long moment, smile still fixed firmly on his face. Beside them, Sakura is tense, looking a little uncertain, nervous. Finally, Fai smiles a close-eyed smile, tilting his head slightly.

"How about I move into your place?" he offers, "You probably have more room than I do."

Kurogane scoffs.

"There's no space in my apartment."

"I'll take the couch," Fai acquiesces without missing a beat. Kurogane falters, suddenly suspicious.

"Why are you so determined to keep me out of your house?"

The blonde sighs.

"I live above my cafe," he tells Kurogane with a mocking smile, "You're gonna frighten all my customers away with that scowly face of yours."

Kurogane growls, and Fai laughs and bends over to tweak his nose. Kurogane snaps at his fingers, and the blonde draws back.

"Bad puppy," he chastises, "I'm going to have to train you to behave."

He skips a little away, then turns to shoot a lazily seductive look over his shoulder.

"See you in a moment, Kuro-pup," he croons, and then in a more normal tone of voice, "Sakura-chan~!"

Sakura straightens, like a soldier called to attention, and Kurogane almost expects her to salute.

"Hai!"

The corners of Fai's eyes crinkle in astonishingly genuine affection.

"Bring our guest back to the main road," he jabs his thumb back in the direction Kurogane had come from, "_That _side. I need to pack, then I'll pick him up from there."

"Hai!"

Fai laughs and disappears around the corner. Sakura takes Kurogane's hand once more, beginning to drag him in the indicated direction. Kurogane snatches at the handle of his luggage again.

"Fai-san is really nice," she babbles happily, "He's always looking out for all of us. Sometimes the people who come to the cafe are… not so nice. He doesn't let them touch us. There was once this man tugged at Yuzuriha-chan's skirt, and his face got really black, then he beat the man up. He always has Masayoshi-kun walk me to the grocery store because he says it isn't safe to be wandering around alone."

She turns a corner, and Kurogane stumbles after her; her grip is surprisingly strong, and his luggage is a clumsy, cumbersome hindrance behind him.

"Though Masayoshi-kun is a little… yeah," she finishes lamely, "It'll be a little difficult there without Fai-san, though I think Onii-san can defend us all too."

She turns another corner, and promptly walks into someone else. Kurogane wrenches his hand out of her grip, wincing (her grip really _is _tight) before she can pull him down with her. She crashes gracelessly to the floor, and there is a startled yelp from the person under her. Sakura makes a strange squeaking noise of panic.

"Oh. _Oh!" _she cries, quickly scrambling off and sitting back on her heels, "I'm _so _sorry!"

The man—_boy_, Kurogane realizes a moment later—sits up, groaning as he rubs at the back of his head.

"It's alright," he reassures her, cracks his neck, then looks up.

"Kid?"

Syaoran blinks.

"Kurogane-san?"

Sakura brushes herself off, then stands. She bends and offers a hand to Syaoran.

"You know each other?"

With no small amount of dread, Kurogane notes the slight widening of Syaoran's brown eyes as he stares up at Sakura. His mouth is slightly ajar, and he looks like he'd just been hit with a bucket of cold water. Yes, the girl was pretty, but that doesn't excuse his apprentice-cum-secretary's staring.

"Hi…" Syaoran says, somewhat dazedly, and Kurogane has to consciously stop himself from facepalming.

Sakura blinks, then smiles widely.

"Hi!" she greets cheerfully, "I'm Sakura! And you are?"

Syaoran rocks back, stunned from the brightness of her smile,

"S-Syaoran," he stammers, still staring at her.

"Nice to meet you, Syaoran-kun!" Sakura chirps, then grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet. Syaoran stumbles slightly; the girl is _strong._

"Nice to meet you too…"

Kurogane closes his eyes. Not cool at all.

"Kid," he says, and Syaoran starts, suddenly reminded of his mentor's presence, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh!" he cries, "Oh! I'm late for work! I overslept!"

He begins to scramble towards the direction of the main road. Kurogane sighs and snags him by the back of his coat collar.

"Can you tell Tomoyo that I'm not moving out of my apartment after all?" he asks, "If not she's going to sic something on me for not telling her."

"Oh," Syaoran says, blinking, "Alright."

"Are you going this way?" Sakura suddenly pipes up, pointing towards the main road, "Kurogane-san and I are going this way too! Maybe we can walk together!"

Syaoran looks at her with adoring puppy-eyes, urgency and tardiness immediately forgotten.

"Okay," he agrees, "We can walk together."

Again, Kurogane suppresses the urge to facepalm, and simply follows after the two teens. Sakura is chattering happily away, and Syaoran trails after her like a lost puppy, hanging onto her every word. It's _embarrassing _what lows men can sink to for a woman. Kurogane vows to never lose himself like that over a woman.

As they turn the next corner, a long blue Jaguar appears by the side of the main road. Rich bastard, Kurogane thinks resentfully, as he traces over the tinted windows and the gleaming blue coat. Probably one of those wealthy douchebags, come down to Limbo for whatever illegal reasons. Then the tinted window of the backseat rolls down, and _Fai _waves wildly at him from inside the car.

"Kuro-riiiiinnnnnn~!" he calls, and Kurogane wants to hide his face in embarrassment as several passerbys turn to look at him, "Over heeeeeereeee~!"

The door on the driver's side opens, and a youth steps out, looking disgruntled. He marches right up to Kurogane and grabs his luggage, then hauls it into the boot. Before he slams the boot shut, Kurogane catches sight of a ridiculously large, orange and yellow polka-dotted _monstrosity _of a suitcase. The youth turns around, and Kurogane recognizes him as Tsukishiro's colleague, the one who had come to fetch Yukito from his office. His eyes land on Sakura, and then his eyes narrow at Syaoran.

"You make a friend, kaijuu?"

Sakura stomps her foot.

"Kaijuu janai!" she shouts, then marches right up to the youth, and _stomps_ on his foot. He winces, and pushes her away.

"Only monsters stomp around like you do, kaijuu," he taunts, grinning, "It's a wonder my little sister manages to make any friends at all."

"O_nii-_san!" Sakura complains, stomping her foot again, "Not in front of Syaoran-kun!"

"Syaoran?" Sakura's brother says thoughtfully, then turns to Syaoran, "That your name, gaki?"

"Don't call Syaoran-kun a brat!"

"I'll call him whatever I want!"

"Baka Onii-san!"

"Kaijuu!"

Kurogane tunes out their squabbling and marches up to Fai's open window.

"You have a goddamned _car!" _he accuses, "How successful is your bloody cafe?"

Fai ignores him.

"Do you have a parking lot or something?" he yells, and Kurogane winces at the volume, "Or should I just tell Touya-kun to drop us off at your apartment lobby?"

"Stop yelling!" Kurogane shouts, "I'm right here!"

"Well, you're yelling too!" Fai hollers back in his ear. Kurogane draws back, and snarls at the infuriating blonde.

"Yes, I have a goddamned parking lot, so you can tell your driver to go back and drive us there yourself!"

"But I don't know how to drive!" yells the blonde, "That's why I _have _a chauffeur!"

"I said to stop _yelling!" _Kurogane bellows, just barely stifling the urge to reach into the car and shake Fai by the collar, "And why the hell do you have a car if you don't know how to drive it?"

A strange look flits across Fai's face, and more a moment he looks strangely vulnerable, like a lost child. Then the moment passes, and Fai grins at him again.

"Cause cars are cool! Duh!"

This time, Kurogane fails to suppress the urge to facepalm. Fai makes a mock-concerned sound as Kurogane slaps himself in the face.

"Careful," he mocks, "You might break your nose."

Kurogane wrenches the driver's door open with a snarl, and seats himself behind the wheel.

"Tell your damn driver to head back so he doesn't have to walk back from my place," he orders, "I know how to drive."

"How considerate of you," Fai croons, then leans out of the window, "Touya-kun~! Kuro-pup is driving me to his place so you can go back. Oh! I need you to pick up a little something from Kakei-san! Can you go now?"

Touya hesitates, and Kurogane sees him looking at Sakura. Apparently, Fai notices it too, because he waves at Syaoran.

"Syaoran-kun!" he calls, "Could you walk Sakura-chan back for me?"

Syaoran brightens and nods vigorously. Sakura pauses, looking a little embarrassed.

"Is that alright?" she asks him, "Aren't you late for work?"

Syaoran shakes his head.

"I'm not _that _late—" he _is _that late, "—and it would be terrible of me to leave you to walk back by yourself!"

"Well," Sakura says, somewhat shyly, "If it's alright…"

"It is alright," Syaoran reassures her.

"And if it's not any trouble…"

"It's no trouble at all!"

"Then perhaps we should…."

"Let's go!"

"Alright!" she chirps, and grabs Syaoran's hand (what was up with that girl and grabbing people's hands?); Syaoran looks like he's about to faint.

Fai stifles a laugh. Kurogane fights his dismay down; the girl has Syaoran wrapped around her little finger.

"Sakura-chan knows the way back!" Fai calls , "Au revoir, ma poupettes!"

He rolls the window up, and kicks the back of Kurogane's chair.

"En avant!" he cries, and kicks again, "Onward, mon chauffeur! Avant! Avant!"

Kurogane groans, and wonders if he'll survive living with the man.

* * *

**A/N: So at the end Fai is saying "Sakura knows the way back! Bye for now, my little dolls!" and then later to Kuro, "Onwards! (then in english) Onward, my driver! Forward! Forward!" And Sakura here is a tough shadowlander! She can pull Syaoran upright and make Kuro stumble! (Not to mention, she's totally got Syaoran wrapped around her little finger, as previously said.) The shadowlanders are a tough bunch, never underestimate them. So now Fai is moving in with Kuro, can the investigator survive the madness? Ohoho.**

**Review please!**


	5. The Murder of Daisuke Kuzuki

**Summary: Fai moves in. In the night, a man is murdered.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

The keys jingle on their ring as the key fails to fit the lock. Kurogane curses and tries the next; It does not fit. Behind him, Fai stands in the corridor looking forlorn, gripping tightly to the handle of his orange and yellow suitcase. Blue eyes are turned towards the light coming from the small window at the end of the corridor, out over the greenery and the rocky cobblestone path leading through it at the front of the apartment block. The sun is out and shining brightly today, and the delighted chirping of birds drift in from the oak outside.

It's an obnoxiously nice day today.

He shoves against the last key, putting his weight into the movement, but the key stubbornly refuses to slide into place. He swears, and turns to glower at Fai.

"These aren't my fucking keys," he announces, aggravated, "These are the _office keys."_

Fai says nothing, still looking out of the window. Kurogane growls irritably and waves in front of his face.

"Hello?" he calls rudely, "Lost in the world of the crazies?"

The blonde blinks and looks at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

Kurogane sighs.

"I left my keys in office, that's what, idiot."

Fai clutches more tightly at the handle of his suitcase, like a child at a teddy bear.

"Okay," he says, "Shall we go?"

Kurogane sighs again in aggravation and storms ahead, waiting impatiently for Fai at the top of the stairs. He never takes the lift because it is slow and looks like it could simply give way at any moment. Besides, he lives on the fifth floor; it's not a far walk down. When he reaches the ground floor landing, he bursts out into the lobby and hefts his luggage down the marble stairs before walking briskly down the cobblestone path, pulling on his black suitcase roughly. Fai drifts along behind him, wheels of his suitcase a quiet click-click-clicking to the fast and furious roar of Kurogane's, like the violent thundering of a steam train.

"There are so many butterflies here," he notes vaguely, "There aren't a lot of them down at my side. We get lots of moths instead."

_"Moths?" _Kurogane repeats, and Fai nods.

"I hate them," he says off-handedly, "They are dumb and ugly and they always get into my clothes. Moths are nuisances."

Kurogane rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure they're not that bad," he argues just for the sake of disagreeing.

Fai shrugs.

"They're all incredibly stupid," he says again, "They're too dumb to fly away when things bigger than them move around and are so slow that you'll step on them and kill them. They're fragile and delicate but they're so dumb it seems like they think they're invincible. And then they leave a mess when they die, because they're huge and disgusting, and then you have to get rid of the appalling dead body."

"Butterflies are disgusting too," Kurogane grumbles, "They're also delicate and leave soggy messes on the floor when they die. It's only because people think they're prettier than moths that they don't hate them. I think they're disgusting. They're just fakes hiding under pretty wings but they're actually the same as moths."

_Just like you, _is what he doesn't say.

"How ironic for _you _of all people to be saying that," Fai murmurs, and Kurogane doesn't quite catch his quiet words.

"_Hah?"_

Fai shakes his head.

"Nothing."

In the end, Kurogane has to turn around like a fool halfway out of the compound and walk back the way he came; the carpark is in the apartment building.

* * *

They arrived at the office to the sound of hushed and urgent voices by the side of the building.

"Sakura," he hears Syaoran's muffled voice, "You shouldn't work at a place like that. It's not safe!"

"It's _perfectly _safe!" he hears Sakura reply, sounding defensive, "Fai-san would never let anything happen to us!"

"Just look at the sort of people who go there!" Syaoran rants, "And Fai-san isn't around now!"

"We have my Onii-san! And Fai has always made Masayoshi-kun walk me when I leave to run errands!"

"_Masayoshi-kun?" _Syaoran repeats incredulously, "That sounds like a pretty half-hearted attempt!"

A long silence, pregnant with tension.

"Don't talk about Fai-san like that," Sakura says dangerously, voice dropping down into a tone much darker than her innocent demeanor, "You don't know what's happened. You don't know why he does the things he does. You don't know _what he's been through. _Don't call it half-hearted and don't you _ever _say anything like that to Fai-san."

"Sakura—"

"He's been so different since _that _incident, and we're not going to let anyone stop him from healing. If anyone tries to hurt Fai-san again, I'll go out and kill that person myself!"

"Sakura!"

"I'm not the little girl you remember, Syaoran!" Sakura says, sounding frustrated, "I'm different now. I'm not a _child _anymore! What can I do to make you see that?"

"I don't think you're a child," Syaoran protests, "I know it's been years since you moved and we got separated—I didn't even _recognize _you just now! I know that you're different. I _know!_ But now that I've found you again, I don't want you to go away anymore!"

Another moment of silence filled with harsh breathing and mixed emotions, then:

"Oh là là, Syaoran-kun is from Hong Kong as well?" Fai suddenly interrupts cheerfully, popping his head innocently around the corner to cries of surprise, "Or are you from the countryside? I've never seen the countryside, but Sakura tells such wonderful stories around what its like living out there that its like being there myself!"

Humming thoughtfully, Fai puts a finger to his chin, pouting.

"But what you said is quite valid. Yukito is a little frail and Touya is always out running errands for me! Of course, Hideki-kun and Kusanagi-san come often to see the the other girls, and Aoki-san always comes to see Karen. But they aren't always there. Of course, there's Masayoshi-kun. He's a good boy but… yeah"

Kurogane wonders what it was about the boy that had everyone saying 'yeah' like that. Beside him, Fai lights up like a lamp.

"Perhaps _you _should take care of Sakura for me! After all, she should never be walking around alone in a place like Limbo. _No one _should be walking around alone. It's just not safe you know. Who knows what could happen!"

Syaoran was visibly flustered.

"Eh?" he cries, "But I have to come to office!"

Fai skips forward and slings an arm around him, grinning inanely.

"You should work for me!" he declares.

"Oi!" Kurogane cuts in immediately, "Stop trying to steal my apprentice!"

"Kuro-idle is still here?" Fai observes, tilting his head to the side, "I thought you were getting your keys so that we could, you know, go home?"

Kurogane snarls at him and storms off into the office; he _had _forgotten what they were here for. Tomoyo waves at him as he stomps over to his office, ignoring her.

"My, what a wonderful cousin I have," she notes innocently as he's about to slam the door behind him, "He always says hello, asks me how I am, and tells me in person that he's not actually moving out. He's the best!"

He pauses, hand on the doorknob.

"Hi," he says, "I'm not moving after all. The idiot's moving in with me."

_Then _he slams the door shut.

He stalks over to his desk, where he sees new papers has arrived, nicely kept in a manila folder. Which meant that Tomoyo had left it; Yuuko usually just left papers scattered over his desk and sometimes over his floor, as if she enjoyed making him pick up after her unnecessarily. He ignored them. He had demanded paid leave today to get Fai settled in (as if that wasn't _her _fault) and Yuuko had grudgingly said yes. He wasn't going to do all that paperwork on his off-day. He opened the drawer below his desk, and immediately found his keys. He threw the office keys into the drawer (those were for the pantry, the cabinet, etc. etc; the key to the front door of the office he kept with his house-keys) and closed it, straightened.

A black puppy on a pristine porcelain mug stared innocuously back at him from the edge of his table. He growled and snatched it up. It was time to throw the damn thing out.

"Holà! Wait a moment!"

Long pianist's fingers snagged the mug from him just as he dangled it over the edge of the trash-bin.

"If Kuro-growly's gonna throw away a perfectly good mug just like that," Fai chided him, "He could simply have given it to me instead!"

He turns it around and strokes the puppy's face mockingly, smirking at him.

"After all," he mocks, "I'm quite partial towards _this _particular mug."

Kurogane makes a grab for it, and Fai pulls it away, tutting.

"Bad puppy," he reprimands, "Looks like Fai-fai needs to re-train yoooouuuu~"

The investigator swipes at him, but Fai ducks and darts nimbly over to the door, laughing all the while.

"Give that back!" Kurogane yells, "I didn't say you could take it!"

"All things thrown away are fair game~!" Fai calls over his shoulder before he throws the door open and flees out into the reception.

Kurogane runs out after him, but he has taken refuge under Tomoyo's wing. Tomoyo stares him down disapprovingly as Fai clings to her skirts and stares accusingly at him with eyes brimming with crocodile tears.

"He… he…." he hiccups, pointing straight at Kurogane, "He did it!"

_The cheater!_

Tomoyo purses her lips, and Kurogane holds his hands up placatingly.

"I didn't do _anything," _he protests, "He's a goddamned liar!"

But his cousin only shakes her head, hands on her hips. In that moment, she looks terrifyingly like Kurogane's mother.

"Terrible," she says.

"Terrible!" Fai agrees vehemently from behind Tomoyo's skirts.

"You need to apologize to poor Fai-chan for making him cry!" she scolds.

"Apologize!" Fai demands.

"But I haven't done any—"

"_Apologize!" _the two _demons _echo in unison.

A short pause.

"And take me out for lunch," Fai adds.

A little while later, he is horrified to find himself—for the _second time—_sitting in a nice restaurant with Fai, holding out his credit card to the waiter to pay for the meal.

* * *

_'—main suspect has been identified, and is now being watched by police personnel. It appears that the police has caught onto a lead, and is currently tailing it ruthlessly. Here's Yuuko Ichihara, head of investigations, with the latest update:'_

A pause, and then Yuuko's voice comes on over the radio; rich and hypnotic, clear as if she were right there in the car.

_' Yes, we are doing the best we can to find the murderer, and we might just have found something. Right now, too much information cannot be revealed, and our findings have to be kept confidential. But rest assured, the murderer _will _be found. It's only a matter of time.'_

Another pause, before the radio broadcaster speaks up again, the recording sounding static and poor in comparison to Yuuko's clear voice.

_'That was Yuuko Ichihara, head of investigations. And now on to the business news—'_

Kurogane jabs his thumb into the 'off' switch, as he stops at the barrier of the carpark, waiting for it to lift. He rolls his eyes.

"Lies," he says, and Fai chuckles.

"But here I am, hein?" he asked playfully, "And here _you _are, watching me."

Kurogane grumbles under his breath as the barrier comes up, and drives in.

"There _is _no lead," he explains, "They're just spouting rubbish to appease the general public."

"That's… terrible," Fai whispered quietly, and when Kurogane turns to look at him, he cannot see his face in the dim light of the carpark. He backs smoothly into a lot, and turns the engine off. The small light overhead comes on, but when he turns, Fai is already getting out of the car.

The door closes with a slam.

He gets out of the other side, and straightens. Fai is already strolling towards the lift lobby, arms up behind his head.

"Hahh~!" he sighs loudly and cheerfully, "What a nice day it is!"

"Yes," Kurogane agrees, locking the car with a push of a button, "Nice."

Fai doesn't hear him, already standing at the entrance to the lift lobby, he turns and waves an arm over his head.

"Hurry, Kuro-straggle!" he cries, "Chop chop! Daylight's a-wasting!"

Kurogane sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk towards the blonde. Fai turns and prances ahead into the lift lobby, and by the time Kurogane catches up with him, he is holding the lift open for him. His apartment block is a rickety, rather (very) old one. The elevators here are of the old-fashioned, open caged kind, thankfully not old enough to require an operator.

"You want to take the _lift?" _he asks incredulously, and Fai nods eagerly.

"It's so charming!" he exclaims, "Don't you think so, Kuro-chiot?"

Kurogane makes a face.

"It's _ancient," _he complains, "This whole apartment block is ancient!"

Fai holds a finger up.

"Ancient is quaint, quaint is charming, charming is good!" he says, and jabs his thumb over his shoulder, "Get in, puppy. We're definitely taking the lift today!"

With no small amount of grumbling, he complies. The doors slide closed with some difficulty; they need to be oiled. It speaks for how little money he has that he lives in an apartment block like _this. _Beside him, Fai's eyes are gleaming in delight as they ascend to the fifth floor at the speed of oh, perhaps a snail? But… It _is _a little heart-warming that Fai thinks his place is charming. Considering how blatantly rich the man seemed to be, he was expecting laughter or something.

Fai claps delightedly as the doors open on the fifth floor, and Kurogane almost face-palms. The corridor is as it always looks, dimly lit by the window at the end of it, and the elevator doors are squeaky as usual. It is undeniably, irrevocably, unimpressive; Fai doesn't appear to think so.

"It's so early 1900s!" he gushes happily as he skips down the corridor, "And you even have hedges and black iron-wrought gates and _streetlamps_ on the front lawn!"

He spins around at Kurogane's door, holding a finger up. The light from the window silhouettes his figure.

"Kuro-pon!" he declares importantly and dramatically, "I _love _your apartment block!"

There is a moment of silence as Kurogane gawks at him from where he's still standing in front of the lift.

It is broken by the doors squeaking noisily and roughly shut. A moment later, loud creaking ensues as the lift begins to travel slowly down to pick someone else up. Kurogane sighs and drags a hand down his face, slowly walking down the corridor towards Fai's silhouette, still frozen in his dramatic pose.

"You can have it," he mumbles, "This place is crumbling, I swear."

He tries the keys, and the first one fits. The lock clicks once, twice (he always double-locks) and he opens it.

"Yeah," he says, "This is where I live."

He pulls the key from the lock and tosses the keyring down on the dining table on the way to his bedroom. He leaves his suitcase there and turns around to see Fai closing the door quietly behind him.

It's nothing impressive, cramped and small to be honest. His apartment consists of one bedroom with an adjoined bathroom, and the living room that has a boxy television from the last tenant, and a mocha-brown suede sofa in front of a glass-topped coffee table. Closely behind the back of sofa is an antique mahogany table with black iron-wrought legs, and its matching black iron-wrought chairs (two, because the table is tiny). One of the chairs is backed up again a kitchen island that acts as a partition between the kitchen and living room. He has a sink set into the copper granite countertop (and that had been there when he'd moved in; he wouldn't have had the money to have his kitchen renovated), a fridge, and a gas stove with four burners. He has a few other smaller appliances, a toaster, a coffee-maker, etcetera.

Apart from that, he has two windows in the living room, one over the sink, and a longer stretch of it beside his bedroom door, by the sitting area. There is a cushioned ledge below the window at the sitting area, the only bit of "renovation" he'd done, besides the bathroom, insisted upon by Tomoyo. The sofa and coffee table, the fluffy rug beneath it, the curtains, the cushions on the seats of the dining chairs—all the interior decor had been Tomoyo's touch. He'd been happy to leave it in the state it had been in, but Tomoyo had insisted. He turns back and opens his bedroom door wide so that Fai can see inside. He jabs a finger towards his room.

"Bathroom's in there," he says gruffly, "We'll have to share."

His bedroom had been pretty nicely done up as well, he had to admit. All his sheets matched (also picked out by his cousin) with an iron-wrought headboard and legs. She'd also insisted on a whole_ wall _of windows, one-sided of course. The adjoined bathroom had been renovated into a pretty thing of copper granite (to match the kitchen, she'd said, your place needs a _theme!) _and though he hadn't the space for a tub, he had a neat frosted-glass shower, and a small window (Tomoyo! he'd protested, _bathrooms _don't need windows!) by the sink.

Fai makes a high sound that sounded something like 'huuu~'.

"Cosy," he says, admiringly, "Kuro-class has good eye."

He makes the sound again, and it _actually _sounded a little more like '_hyuu~'._

"What the hell is that noise?" Kurogane demands.

Fai blinks.

"What noise?"

"The noise you just made!" Kurogane clarifies, pointing accusatively at him.

"Hyuu?"

He brandishes his finger wildly at the noise.

"Yes!" he exclaims, "That noise! What the hell is that?"

Fai shrugs.

"I never learnt to whistle," he says, simply.

Kurogane makes a face.

"Then learn to," he replies, "It's annoying."

Fai shrugs, and leaves his suitcase by the door to waltze into Kurogane's kitchen, unwrapping the newspaper-wrapped bundle in his hands. He stops in front of the rack where Kurogane leaves his washed mugs, and places _the_ mug onto it. The puppy mug. He takes a step back and smirks.

"There," he says, "My new favorite mug. I hope you don't mind me taking up a little of your kitchen space."

He smiles innocently and pulls his suitcase over to beside the television. He opens it and takes out a blanket and a small pillow.

"I suppose I'll be taking the couch, then," he says, and settles down on said couch, "What's for dinner?"

Kurogane goes over to check the digital clock he has on his kitchen window-sill. It's almost dinner time.

"You'll have to cook for yourself," he says, "I have to go to HQ to fill up paperwork for you being here."

Fai looks like he's about to say something, but Kurogane retreats into the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

Slamming the fancy glass doors on Yuuko's smirking face, he storms out of investigations headquarters into the dark carpark. Not that it's very dark at all; over here on this side of the Divide, the city never sleeps.

He wrenches the door of Fai's blue Jaguar open, and seats himself in the driver's seat. He sits for a moment, fuming, before starting the engine and driving out of the carpark. He could have been done with the paperwork in an hour, but Yuuko had insisted on speaking with him, and had detained him for a few hours more to make her coffee, to please find Watanuki for her, to go check on the photocopier, to please run down and make a call to the investigations office down by the edge of Limbo. And now it's almost a quarter past midnight. He turns the radio on as he reaches the highway—

_'—yet another midnight murder down in Limbo. Here is Hokuto Sumeragi, live at the scene:'_

The roar of licking flames comes abruptly on over the radio, along with shouting and the sounds of police sirens.

_'Hello all, Hokuto Sumeragi live at the scene of the murder. Right now, it's two minutes to 12:20, and the forensics are hot on the trail of—oh, hi Subaru! Eto, there are lots of police here, and the fire brigade is working hard on putting the flames out. The murder has taken place in a roadside-alley this time, and it appears as if the victim was pulled out of his car and into the alleyway. Right over there, I can see a silver Kuzuki pulled up by the side of the road, and the police suspect sabotage as the tyros have been punctured by a currently unidentified tool. The license plate reads: KUZ—A Kuzuki?'_

Kurogane's eyes widened. The Kuzuki's were one of the richest families in the whole city. They lived right by the Candle, and owned a small luxury automobile company named after themselves. Kakyou Kuzuki, he remembered. One of the suspects picked at random along with Fai.

_'Subaru! Subaru, come here! Who's the victim?'_

Kurogane vaguely recognized the name. Subaru Sumeragi, one of the officers from the investigations office on the edge of Limbo.

_'Eh? Hokuto-chan, I'm working now!'_

_'Who's the victim?"_

_'Eto, an employee of the Kuzuki family. Daisuke Kuzuki.'_

_'And that's the situation! It is now 12:20 and the victim is an employee of the Kuzuki family, Daisuke Kuzuki, suspected of being stopped on the road and murdered in a side-alley. As of now, there is no further information on the murder, but the license plate number of the victim is KUZ-2196. This is Hokuto Sumeragi reporting from 261 Tumblethon Street.'_

Kurogane swerved and shot down the next exit, ignoring the enraged honking from behind him. It took only five minutes of crazed driving before he caught sight of the smoke rising above the roofs of Limbo's squat apartment blocks. He could see the silver Kuzuki pulled up along the road leading deeper into Limbo, as if the victim had been making his way in when he'd been stopped. The silhouettes of people, charcoal black against the flames, swarmed like ants around the scene of the crime as he pulled over a little ways away and jogged over. He immediately caught sight of Watanuki, conversing with an eagle-eyed man by a street-lamp.

"Watanuki!"

Watanuki spun around as Kurogane stopped before him, nodding to the stranger.

"Kurogane Suwa," he introduced curtly.

"Doumeki Shizuka," returned the man, nodding once in greeting.

"_Kurogane Suwa!" _Watanuki _screeches, _"What do you _think _you're doing here?"

Kurogane gapes at him for a moment, then waves a hand helplessly at the flames.

"The case—" he splutters, "I need to be here to—"

"You need to be at _home!" _shrieks the secretary, looking for all the world like he's about to start tearing his hair out, "You're supposed to be watching Fai-san! Do you _know _what they're going to do to him if there's even a _little bit _of evidence that might incriminate him? _They're going to send him straight to the death row!"_

He shoves at Kurogane, black hair wild and mismatched eyes livid.

"Go home!" he orders, "Go home _now!"_

Shocked, Kurogane staggers back into Fai's car and starts the engine—

"Go! Go! Go!" comes Watanuki's muffled screeching through the window.

—and speeds all the way back to his apartment.

* * *

"Oi, idiot!" he yells at the top of his lungs as he reaches his floor, a little breathless from the exertion of taking five floors at a sprint. One of the apartment doors opens, a disgruntled woman looking out at him in a dressing gown as he sprints down the corridor and wrenches his door open.

Fai blinks at him by the door, beige coat on and clearly in the process of taking off his shoes. Kurogane strides forward and grabs him by the collar of his black turtleneck, peeking out from under his coat, pinning him against the wall and leaning in close.

"Where did you go?" he asks in a low, dangerous voice.

Something cracks in blue eyes, revealing a sharp edge of panic. Fai catches the wrist of the hand buried in his shirt, and _twists. _Fai backs away as Kurogane hisses and lets go, and the panic fades away as quickly as it came. The blonde laughs, brushing himself down.

"Sorry about that," he says cheerfully, "You surprised me, Kuro-rough!"

"Where were you?" Kurogane repeats, advancing forward menacingly.

Fai takes a step back, eyes hardening.

"Don't," he orders sharply, coldly, "_Touch _me."

Kurogane stops, and folds his arms.

"Where?" he demands.

Fai toes off his other shoe, lips pursed.

"The convenience store," he says crossly, holding up a plastic bag, "I was hungry."

Kurogane gapes at him for a moment, torn between suspecting Fai of trickery, and tearing his hair out at the man's pure _idiocy._

"Do you _know _what's happening out there?" he finally roars, and Fai takes another step back. Kurogane marches over to the window and points out at the blaze down in the dreamy haze of Limbo, "There's been a murder and you've been _out? _Do you _know _how incriminating that is? Do you want to _die?"_

"I'm not going to die," Fai says, "No need to overreact."

Kurogane grabs his slim wrist and shakes it.

"You give them reason to _suspect, _and your skinny neck will be in a noose tomorrow!"

Fai wrenches his wrist away.

"Fine," he says, "I'll confine myself like a hermit, imprison myself even though you haven't even proven me guilty. Guilty until proven innocent, right? I guess I just have to starve to death alone in this apartment."

He stalks over and sets the plastic bag down on the dining table.

"Phone," he says, back still turned away.

"What?"

"I want to use your _phone," _he clarifies, sounding upset, "I need to make a call."

Kurogane's eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Why? About to get some accomplice to bust you out? Conveniently get rid of me so that you can go on killing innocent people?"

"You know _nothing, _fool," Fai hisses, turning around to glare at him, "That's the thing with all you Knights. You intrude into _our _space and think you can tell us what's right and what's wrong. You condemn us for our silence, and say that we're just helping the _bad guys."_

He stalked over and jabbed a finger into Kurogane's chest.

"Well, you know what?" he shoved, and Kurogane staggered back, "There _are _no bad guys, only people trying to survive in the _hell _that you have pushed us into! You think we'd live in the shadows by choice? You think we'd live in limbo by choice? We'd all love to bask up in the light like you _Knights!"_

"Knight?" Kurogane repeats, confused.

"All of _you _people of course!" Fai cries, "There's the honorable knight, and then the villainous rogue. But they're all the same, aren't they? Only knights hide under their shiny armor and pretty white stallions whereas rogues are _honest _about what they do. In the end all knights still kill and fight like rogues do, don't they? Just like butterflies and moths. What makes you so different from us but your pretty wings?"

He spun away in an indignant whirl of beige suede and blonde hair, stopping in front of the window overlooking the Divide.

"You know nothing," he says again, voice trembling with suppressed resentment, "You know nothing of the game that's being played. You should make like the rest of us, and just stay out of the crossfire, instead of stupidly heading straight into the flames."

Fai was quiet for a long moment, looking out over the brightly lit apartment blocks framing the dark expanse past the Divide, and the glowing flames so much like hellfire between, snug within the liminal half-light of Limbo.

"The big players are warring," he said finally, "And if you don't get out of the way, you'll just be stepped on."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, here is the next chapter in a rather untimely manner. The truth is that I've been rather inspired for this chapter, partially because I always write with music, but the music I've been listening to doesn't quite fit anymore. I've actually been listening to Synchronity, which is the opening for Tokyo Relevations, and Awake and Alive by Skillet. Before this, I'd been listening to Whispers in the Dark by Skillet as well, but I stopped because I play music when I read as well, and I listened to Whispers in the Dark when I _finally _read The Line of Sight by twicebornbacchus. By the way, you should totally read that fic if you haven't. TB Bacchus is one of my favorite new writers, and I think she's getting popular pretty fast. I was putting off reading it because it sounded a little similar to Moths, but I finally couldn't resist because, as I've said, TB Bacchus is one of my favorite writers. It is sort of similar, in some very startling ways especially for what I have planned for Moths, but it's very different as well. You should read it if you haven't, but you'll probably be able to tell that a lot more research (and excellent writing skills) went into The Line of Sight. If you're looking for something better than Moths, but of a similar mood, go read it.**

**Other than that, I've finally written out an outline for the events of Moths! Yes, I was writing without an outline before. And that is another reason why this chapter took so long, a) I was writing the outline, b) the last few chapters sound so much more interesting in comparison to this one that I had such a hard time writing this less interesting chapter. By the way, I know I said that this would be a short chaptered fic, but since I allowed myself to ramble so much with the last four chapters, I realized that to make the development of the relationship believable (considering that this fic explores their _meeting _up until the development of mutual feelings instead of focusing on an established relationship, or _establishing _a relationship where they have already met and are friends) the fic is going to extend to a length unplanned for. It's not going to be _unbearably _long, probably about 12 chapters? It could extend further if I wanted to make this real epic, but I think I'd be biting off _wayy _more than I can chew. I'm still undecided about whether I should include an epilogue, or leave it as it is on the last chapter. You people can yell at me for one, or to not include one, when I get to the last chapter, eh?**

**Another thing, a reviewer commented that the violence in this story could call for an M rating, and I sort of agree with that. However, because I didn't want readers who don't have Moths on their alerts to lose the story, I'll only transfer this over to the M archive when I post the next chapter. Also, I _might _have an explicit sex scene later on. It's in the outline, and I have it half-written, but it's not complete yet and I've never written smut before. Because of that, I might end up chickening out *sheepish grin* when it comes to the time to post it. I have no idea how the hell to write a sex scene though I've read lots in fanfic.**

**Lastly, if you spot any typos, feel free to tell me! And please do leave a review if you have the time. I find them very much inspiring, and am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I sometimes read through my reviews while writing to re-inspire myself when I find myself flagging.**


	6. The Murder of an Unknown

**Summary: Pancakes, forms, and an assault at lunch. In the midnight hours, an unknown victim falls to the flames.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

"Hahaue."

"Yes?"

"There are bubbles in the pancakes."

"Isn't that normal, honey?"

Somewhat suspiciously, Kurogane prodded at the pancake with the spatula.

"But the pancakes _you _make _never _have bubbles in them."

A sigh issued from the phone.

"Youou, that's because it's not done yet."

"Then how do I get rid of the bubbles?"

The pancake gave a threatening sizzle, and Kurogane growled at it. _Behave, _he mouthed at it, with a punishing jab of his spatula. It sizzled some more.

"Flip it over."

"Okay," he said, and slowly began to try to get his spatula under the fried batter.

"But not now!" his mother said, "Only when the bubbles are all popped and leave little holes in the batter. Are there little holes in the batter, sweetie?"

"Yeah," he says, and flips the pancake. He curses a little as it lands half out of the pan, and quickly pushes it back to the centre with the spatula, "Okay, it's flipped."

With a sense of utmost accomplishment, he begins to pat the pancake with the flat of his spatula. Right now, this side of the pancake is looking pretty good; all smooth and golden brown just like it's supposed to look.

_"Don't," _his mother says sharply, "Press down on the pancake."

He stops immediately.

"I wasn't," he says, "Pressing down on it that is."

"You _were," _his mother says accusingly, "Don't you _ever _press down on your pancakes. They're supposed to be fluffy!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he yelps, because… Well… Never underestimate the indignation of a housewife at 'newbies' pressing down on pancakes. In fact, never underestimate the indignation of a housewife at 'newbies' doing _anything. _That was something he learnt the hard way while learning to cook with his mother. You weren't allowed to do the strangest things, and if you did… be prepared to face her wrath. He prodded gently at the edge of the pancake.

"Is it done yet?"

"_Wait, _Youou," his mother says, sounding exasperated, "A little patience can go a long way. Just leave the pancake alone."

The shower starts over in his bedroom and Kurogane breathes a sigh of relief. No offense to his mother—he loves her and all—but he doesn't _ever _want anyoneto know that he has hour-long phone conversations with his mother, so that she can supervise his cooking. He turns back to the sizzling pancake, and raises his spatula to prod at it, just to check if the underside is cooked.

_"Leave _it."

He puts down the spatula, and wonders how the _hell _his mother knew. Sometimes he believes that his mother is a freaking _psychic _or something. Omnipotence seemed to be a mother thing. For a minute or so, he simply stands there and watches the pancake sizzle.

"Okay," his mother says, "It's done. Put it on a plate. How are your other pancakes?"

He blinks.

"I only have one," he tells her, a little stupidly.

"What?" she cries, as if he has said something blasphemous, "You're supposed to cook _multiple _pancakes at the same time! How do you expect to finish breakfast in time for work?"

"I'm sorry, I'm _sorry!" _he yelps, and quickly begins to scoop several spoonfuls of batter onto the pan, spacing them what he deems to be a safe distance from one another. In the background, his mother nags at him.

A stressful twenty minutes later, he has a tall stack of pancakes and two bowls of maple syrup on the table. He has no idea what inspired him to try something as ambitious as _pancakes made from scratch, _considering his previous difficulties with miso soup and _instant noodles. _Kurogane doesn't want to think that he had done it because he wanted to make it up to Fai for the night before_. _The toilet flushes and the tap runs for a moment before stopping. A moment later, Fai emerges from his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his head like a turban.

"Why the _fuck _are you wearing your towel like that?" he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Fai blinks.

"Doesn't everyone?"

Kurogane shrugs.

"I thought only women did it," he admits, "Because they have long hair and all. I dunno. My mother used to do it. I made pancakes. C'mere."

He sits down at the table, and Fai settles down opposite him.

"Oh," he says, a little thoughtfully, "I learnt it from someone I used to live with who… had long hair."

"Used to?"

Immediately, Fai's blue eyes shuttered closed.

"Yeah," he says with a large, _fake _smile, "I live alone now."

Before Kurogane can pursue the subject, his phone begins to vibrate on the table. He leans over to look at the lit-up screen. _Tomoyo. _

"Hello?"

"_Kurogane!" _screams Tomoyo over the phone, "_Why didn't you fill up the papers I left on your desk yesterday? _You came into office!"

Kurogane winced.

"It was my off-day!" he complains, "I didn't want to do bloody paperwork on my _off-day."_

"Come now! And bring Fai with you!"Tomoyo yells, "_Now!"_

"But it's Saturday!"

"_Now!"_

"Okay, okay!" Kurogane grumbles, "What the hell are those papers for anyway?"

Tomoyo sighs.

"It's for getting the cameras set up at your place, dumb-dumb!" she says exasperatedly, "The camera people were supposed to set up _today, _but since you didn't fill up the paperwork, I had to shift it back_."_

A short rustling of papers; Tomoyo was probably in office.

"Come now!" she demands, "You made me come to office on a _Saturday. _And Syaoran called to say he's coming in too. _Because you didn't get the paperwork done and now we have to work overtime to get it processed."_

She blows a loud raspberry—how mature, Kurogane thinks dryly—and hangs up. When he looks up from his plate, Fai is staring questioningly at him, curious, but unwilling to ask for fear of crossing some unspoken boundary. He shrugs.

"We need to go to office today to do paperwork."

Fai's eyes widened.

"We?" he repeated, "_Why?"_

Kurogane swirled a piece of his pancake in maple syrup, and popped it into his mouth; it wasn't unbelievably good, but it wasn't bad either. He slowly cut another piece.

"I need to get cameras set up around here," he explained, "The cameras should have been set _before _you got here. But it appears that our witch of a head doesn't have any sense of protocol. If she'd really wanted to follow protocol, you wouldn't be here, you'd be at home, under house arrest or something."

Fai frowned.

"But you haven't got any evidence against me," he protested, and Kurogane shrugged.

"That's why this is _unofficial _house arrest," he stood, and dumped his plate into the sink before turning around, "Let's go."

* * *

"Kyaa~!" they hear as they push open the door to the office lobby, "Sakura-chan kawaii ne!"

"Eh? Tomoyo-chan, you're flattering me…" comes a muffled voice from somewhere out of view.

"It's not flattery if it's true!" Fai declares grandiosely, and settles himself on the edge of the reception counter, crossing his legs. Aghast, Kurogane remembers Yuuko sitting there in the exact same way the morning after Antolev's murder. He suppresses the need to gag and burn his brain as it conjures up images of Fai with Yuuko's red-rimmed glasses, in a ruffle-blouse and a pencil skirt that parts up the side, revealing a line of white thigh.

"How did Syaoran-kun get himself such a kawaii girlfriend?" Tomoyo gushed, and winked at the boy in question, "Well done by the way."

Kurogane turns in time to see Syaoran shooting out of his seat on the couch by the door, face flaming red. From down the corridor, he hears clattering and the clang of something metal being dropped.

_"It's not like that!" _protest two voices simultaneously, one issuing muffled from the office pantry.

"It isn't?" Fai cries, distraught, "That's terrible!"

"It is, isn't it?" Tomoyo agrees, sighing as she tilts her face into her palm.

Sakura emerges from the pantry with a tray of drinks, her sweet little face almost tomato-like in its redness. She sets the tray down on the low glass-topped table and turns around a little crossly.

"Not you too, Fai-san!" she complains, brushing the skirt of her French maid get-up down, "I'm getting enough of that from the others back at the cafe!"

Fai holds a finger up.

"The truth will often be repeated," he says sagely.

Kurogane sighs and makes his way into his office as the two teenagers burst into protests once more. The manila folder is still lying on his desk where he had left it the day before, and he opens it as laughter rings from the reception. Quickly, he fills in his particulars, and whatever other crap the form asks him for, wondering why he had needed to bring Fai along. He groans as he reaches the last question: _do you live with anyone else? If no, please leave the rest of the form blank. _He put a little tick in the 'yes' box, and moved on to the next page. _Person's particulars #2. _Grumbling to himself, Kurogane snatches the forms off his desk and marches out into the reception, just in time to hear Sakura say casually:

"I have a note for you," she procures a little slip of paper from somewhere within the folds of her dress, and hands it to Fai, "By the way, Kakei's been asking for cake."

Fai takes the note from her, quickly reading through it before he turns it over and steals a pen over the counter to scribble on the back of it.

"Tell Kakei that I'll send him the cake once the candle is out," he says as he scribbles, then straightens and hands her the note, "And please bring this to Fuuma, if you'd be so kind."

Sakura takes the slip from him, and a moment later when she grasps both of his hands in her own tiny ones, the note is gone again.

"How are you? Have you been sleeping alright? Have you had enough to eat? Is the food to your liking?" she fusses, and Fai laughs.

"I'm fine," he reassures her, "Everything's fine."

Sakura beams.

"That's good," she comments happily, "What did you have for dinner last night?"

For a moment, Fai looks distinctively guilty.

"Ah…" he says sheepishly, "I, err... didn't eat dinner last night."

Kurogane frowns, and remembers leaving before dinner to head over to HQ. _Did _he have food in the fridge? He was pretty sure he had vegetables and some chicken. Perhaps they had gone bad? Kurogane tried to fight down his guilt at not having taken better care of his guest.

"Eh?" Sakura cries, "That won't do! Do you want me to cook for you? I'll bring it over!"

She presses a finger to her chin, frowning adorably.

"But what should I cook?" she wondered aloud, "Pasta? Baked rice, maybe? Or how about something with a bit more meat in it… Chicken chop? Fai-san taught me to cook so many sweets, but I suppose I learnt to cook all the proper food courses when you were still living with—"

She cuts herself off abruptly, eyes widening in horror as she claps a hand to her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes immediately, "I forgot that…"

Fai ruffled her hair, smile a little strained even as he told her he was fine. It seemed that there was some inside story here, and while Kurogane was curious, it wasn't any of _his _business anyway. He slid the forms across the counter towards Fai, together with the pen.

"Fill in your particulars," he instructs bluntly, and then heads over to Syaoran, seated on the couch.

"How's the case coming along?" he asks without preamble, "Did the higher-ups say anything new?"

Syaoran shakes his head, and Kurogane sits next to him.

"Did you see anything last night?" he continues, "Anything suspicious?"

All of a sudden, Syaoran shoots up ramrod straight, amber eyes wide in surprise.

"Eh?" he splutters, "I mean, no. Ah, what made you think I saw anything?"

Kurogane frowns.

"You live around the place the victim was killed, don't you?" he asks, bemused, "What's wrong, kid? You seem… tense."

Syaoran laughs a little nervously, and sits back, looking relieved.

"It's nothing… I just—It's nothing," he abruptly turns back to Kurogane, "Ah, I forgot that something new came up. Some guy's been checked into LMI. The psychiatrists decided to take this to the police because he seems to be highly paranoid. He keeps muttering to himself, and insisting that he will be the next victim. He thinks the murderer is coming for him. I think the higher ups are still trying to decide what they are going to do."

Kurogane quietly mulls over the information. LMI—Lumen Mental Institute. Rather corny in his opinion; its name and its matching motto, _lighting lives through the darkness. _From the reception counter, Tomoyo 'tsk's to herself, shaking her head.

"Looks like this unsolved string of murders is taking a toll on the citizens. Especially because it's usually so safe here."

Somewhat cynically, Kurogane privately thinks that the city is only _"safe" _because all its crimes are being hushed up in some giant conspiracy.

"I'm done!" Fai cries from the counter, clicking the pen once as he steps back and stretches, "Forms are so troublesome to fill!"

Kurogane stands and shoves his hands into his pockets.

"I'll come back in tomorrow. If anything happens, call me," To Fai: "Let's go."

"Fai-san," Sakura calls as Fai turns to head out, Kurogane following shortly behind him, "Some visitors came looking for you at the cafe."

Pausing at the doorway, Fai turns his head slightly.

"What happened then?"

Sakura frowns.

"Luckily, Kusanagi had been there to visit Yuzuriha," she says, "He helped us to entertain them."

Fai pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"That's good," he says finally, "Be careful on your way back."

"I think those visitors said they might come looking for you," Sakura tells him, "But they didn't know where you're living now, so I don't think they'll really come knocking."

Laughing, Fai pushes the door open.

"Alright," he calls over his shoulder, still chuckling, "If they come again, tell them I said thanks for the patronage."

Kurogane watches as the glass doors swing shut after him, staring as the blonde strides across the carpark, heading for the gleaming blue Jaguar parked near the entrance. After a moment, he snaps out of it, and quickly chases after his charge.

* * *

_'I want happiness,_

_to cause your happiness,_

_to be your happiness.'_

Kurogane turns his face away; he hates love songs. Beside him, Fai leans forward, eyes falling shut as he smiles.

"Such a lovely voice," he murmurs, "Clover always has the best music."

The singer in question is a busty, curly-haired woman in a slinky black cocktail dress standing in front of a grand piano. Clover is a high society restaurant it seems. The cushions are velvet, the cutlery silver, and the wineglasses a genuine crystal. There's a raised platform surrounded by tables covered with embroidered tablecloths, and a second floor above them that stops before the stage, so that the diners there can enjoy the performances as well. Above the stage, a large crystal chandelier hangs down, and an elaborately framed window stretches from floor to ceiling behind it. Fai had dragged him here, and he can't help but wonder if this is the sort of place that Fai dines at on a regular basis.

_'So take me_

_someplace far away_

_to a true Elsewhere.'_

The investigator only rolls his eyes.

"If you want to go somewhere so much, just go by yourself!"

Fai pouts as the song ends, and the restaurant echoes with applause.

"How unromantic!" he cries, "And judgmental! Kuro-unsentimental is the only one who'd do that, you know!"

"What?" Kurogane scoffs, "Do _you _need someone to take you somewhere? Apart from me, that is, since you can't even drive your own car. You're a grown man. Either deal with it, or book a flight out of here like a coward."

Idly twirling a fork in what was left of his (insert French name here that Kurogane can't pronounce for the life of him) salmon, Fai frowns disapprovingly at him.

"Kuro-young has such a simplistic view of the world," he chides quietly, "I suppose you think you can solve everything on your own."

Kurogane shrugs.

"Why not?" he asks, "Just as long as you try hard enough, ferociously enough, you can solve any of your own problems. The only people who can't solve their own problems are those who give up easily, thinking that they need someone else to save them."

Lowering blue eyes to his plate, Fai smiles somewhat sadly.

"Sometimes there are things so much bigger than us," he murmured, "We're all so insignificant in this world; stupid insects that think they're so great. And how easily, _thoughtlessly_ do we brush insects away."

He pushes his plate away although there almost half a plate left, and dabs at his mouth with his napkin.

"Ahh~" he sighs, smile firmly on his face once more, "That was a good meal!"

"Merci, I'm glad you think so, mon chaton," comes a deep melodic voice from behind them. Kurogane turns to see the black-haired singer smiling fondly.

"Oruha-san!" Fai cries delightedly, and steps around the table to embrace her. He kisses her once on each cheek before drawing away, "How nice to see you again!"

Oruha hums in agreement, holding him by the arms as she scrutinizes him.

"You've gotten skinnier," she accuses, "Your _père_ will not be happy. How is he anyway?"

"He's fine," Fai tells her laughingly, "In Paris for business right now."

She gestures towards the glass between Fai's fingers.

"No champagne today?"

Fai smiles and takes a sip.

"Ah, no. Don't particularly feel like champagne today. I thought Pinot Noir would go well with the salmon."

Oruha smiles.

"How is it?"

"Velvet," he praises, "Suitably _chambré. _Clover has always served good alcohol. You know I once went somewhere in the city that put ice in my red wine?"

Oruha cringes a little at that. _Snobs, _Kurogane thinks; it doesn't matter that he himself would_ never _put ice in his sake. But Fai fits the role, Kurogane muses. Pretentious and frivolous with his tendency to lapse into French, he made the perfect high-society snob.

Fai downs the rest of his "Pinot Noir" and smiles at the singer.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you again after so long," he says sincerely, "But I suppose I should call for the bill. By the way, if you'd be so kind, would you get the waiters to pack all these up for me, together with one of your _delightful _red velvet cakes? For takeaway."

Oruha looks over their plates, and smiles back at him.

"I'll tell them to come," she tells them, and leaves, "À bientôt, mon chaton!"

Clapping in childish delight, Fai turns and grins at Kurogane.

"Cake~!" he sings, "How I love cake!"

Reminded of the conversation back at the office, Kurogane frowns.

"What did you mean by the cakes and the candles?" he demands, "And why was Kakei asking for cake? You know the guy?"

Fai smiles his signature close-eyed smile.

"It was an advanced birthday greeting," he explains serenely, "I simply told him he'd get his cake once my birthday has passed. He comes often to my cafe for cake."

A white-haired waitress comes to take their plates, probably to pack it up for them, and Fai hands her his credit card.

"Kuro-sweet paid the last two times," Fai chirps, "I'll pay this time."

And later when the waitress comes back with their takeaway and the bill, Kurogane wonders how much the meal had cost. Fai takes an expensive looking pen from the smiling waitress and signs off with a flourish before allowing her to escort them to the waiting area. As she instructs the valet to bring the car, they seat themselves on the couches; Fai immediately begins to gobble down the neatly wrapped toffees on the coffee table. Kurogane rolls his eyes and is about to reprimand the blonde when the white-haired waitress comes to them.

"The valet's gone down," she tells them, with a subtle southern drawl, "He might take about five minutes to get back here with the car. That alright with y'all?"

Fai looks up at her, cheeks bulging with candy.

"The toffees here are really good."

Kurogane stifles the urge to facepalm, and sighs instead. Fai looks at him, cheeks still stuffed like a chipmunk, or a hamster.

"It's cold in here," he says suddenly, "Let's go outside and wait."

A moment later, he is skipping out of the revolving doors, dragging Kurogane after him. The waitress trots after them. Kurogane yelps as he nearly gets caught in the doors; revolving doors are not quite meant for other people to be dragged through. Fai comes out of the other side with an irritating '_hyuu~!' _and claps excitedly like a child. Regaining his bearings, Kurogane scowls and reaches out to snag Fai by the collar so he can give the damned _idiot _a piece of his mind. At the last moment, his fingers grasp air as Fai skips obliviously ahead.

"Look, Kuro-puce!" he trilled, "What's the commotion over there?"

Said commotion is a rowdy group of boys, laughing and yelling. A moment later, a large grey cat darts out from between their legs, and begins to sprint across the restaurant drive-in, straight towards them. Jeering, the teenagers give chase. It's disgusting and _dishonorable _and so when the cat runs behind a cleaning trolley to their left, Kurogane draws himself to his full height before he turns towards the onslaught of boys and _glares._

They halt immediately, halfway towards them. One of them laughs nervously.

"Is that your cat, mister?" he calls, and cringes when Kurogane just stares them silently down, "We weren't going to do anything! I swear!"

When he still says nothing, the group of them turn tail and flee. Beside him, Fai chuckles.

"Scaryyyy…"

They turn to see a cleaner trying vainly to coax the cat out from underneath her cart. Cooing, Fai bends down and opens up their takeaway, picking out a meatball with a plastic fork and dropping it in front of him. After a moment of Fai's disgusting crooning, the cat creeps out and gobbles up the meatball as Fai pets it and strokes it and eventually gets it into his lap and _cuddles it._

"You're _awfully _good with cats," the white-haired waitress notes, and they turn towards her, somewhat puzzled to see her still following them, "Sir."

Behind them, a blue Jaguar pulls up at the lobby. The valet emerges, holding the door open for them. Fai stands, and presses a few ten dollar notes into her hand. The cat winds itself around his legs, purring contentedly.

"Thank you," he says, and smoothly reads her name off her name-tag, "Caldina."

She pockets the tip, grinning.

"You're welcome," she returns, before her grin turns sharp, "_Le chaton."_

The cleaner screams as she flips out a dagger and lunges forward. As the valet yelps and hides behind the car, Fai twists deftly out of the way, ducking as she slashes at his neck. With a fierce yowl, the cat leaps forward, sinking its claws into Caldina's trouser leg. Seizing the distraction, Kurogane snatches a broom from the cleaning trolley, and swings it overhead, down onto their assailant. With a wince, the waitress blocks his blow with her forearm, staggering a little from the cat clinging to her leg. Swearing, she shakes it off and it lands agilely on all fours, hissing as Kurogane jabs at her with the end of the broom. Twisting away, she lunges forward again, drawing a second knife from somewhere on her person as the cleaner runs into the restaurant, screaming bloody murder.

"Fuck!" Kurogane hisses when the dagger slices through the front of his shirt, painting a shallow red line over his chest as he jumps back to avoid the slash. Caldina stabs at him with the other, and he knocks her arm aside with the broom, and jabs her in the gut with the end of it. She reels back, spluttering curses, before she charges at him, launching a round-house kick to his neck. He drops to the floor in a smooth tumble, and ends in a low crouch. She is out to _kill._

Their assailant turns, attacking Fai once more. He bats her dagger away, unfazed, and twists away as she brings the second one down. The cat launches itself at her turned back, clawing and snarling, scratching long rips down the back of shirt. Red blooms over what little of the white blouse they can see through the black waiter's vest. She cries out in pain as she throws the cat off. Not even blinking, Fai steps forward and deals her a sock in the gut and a swift undercut to the jaw in quick succession before dropping down in a sweeping kick. Darting out of range of Fai's kick, Caldina turns just as Kurogane launches himself forward once more, not in time to dodge him as he swings his make-shift staff sideways into her stomach. She staggers back into the wall, retching.

A couple of burly men in uniforms run out of the revolving door, closely followed by the cleaner.

"_There!" _she screeches, pointing at Caldina, "That's her!"

The assassin swipes at her mouth, shooting them a glare before she turns and flees, clutching at her stomach. The security guards give chase.

"Oi!" Kurogane yells after their retreating assailant, "Get back here, bitch!"

Fai snags him by the back of the shirt as he charges after the waitress, and yanks him sharply around. Kurogane staggers backwards; there is unexpected strength in that deceivingly slight frame, reminding him of those scarred, corded forearms he'd caught sight of when he'd gone to pick the blonde up. Fai forces him down onto a bench backed up against the wall, and smacks him promptly across the face with the back of his hand when Kurogane resists.

"_Sit," _he orders sharply, and begins to check over him—pulling one eye open, checking his pulse, and then unbuttoning his shirt to look over the cut—with a single-minded efficiency.

"I'm fine," Kurogane protests after a moment of shock, batting Fai's hands away and pulling his shirt closed with a scowl. Fai cups a palm under his jaw, forcing his chin up and stares disconcertingly into his eyes for a long moment. Kurogane freezes in the blonde's grasp as Fai leans close.

"Do you feel dizzy, nauseous or breathless? Abdominal pains?" Fai asks after a moment, letting go of Kurogane's jaw and backing away.

Kurogane blinks, and clears his throat before he rubs at his jaw. He thinks to himself that Fai's fingers might leave bruises tomorrow, scowling.

"No," he mumbles sullenly, "It's not like I hit my head or something, I just got nicked."

Fai smile is sharp.

"That blade could have been _poisoned, _for all you know."

"I don't feel poisoned."

With a loud meow, the cat leaps up into Kurogane's lap, purring and nuzzling. The cleaner approaches them as the valet emerges from his hiding place behind the car.

"What a brave cat," she croons, "What's her name?"

"How would _I _know? She's not _my_—"

"Souhi," Fai responds immediately, stroking the cat under the chin.

Souhi nuzzles against his hand, but then turns and cuddles into Kurogane's abdomen. Fai looks surprised.

"She likes you."

Kurogane frowns at him.

"Souhi?" he repeats, "You know Japanese?"

Fai smiles a liar's smile.

"I don't," he says, "But Sakura always said she thought it was a nice counterpart to Hien."

"Scarlet flame," Kurogane translates, "Blue ice."

Fai gives the cat a kiss on the nose, and Kurogane makes a face.

"Souhi. Apt, don't you think? What a pretty blue coat," Fai croons, "Like a Russian Blue. Except she has such blue eyes. Russian Blues have green eyes."

Kurogane doesn't give a damn about what breed the stupid cat is. He _hates _cats. And since Fai is pretty much the epitome of all the things he hates in the world, he _must _be a cat-person. But he can handle it, Kurogane thinks to himself, gritting his teeth, he can handle the man until the end of the case.

"Can we keep it?"

But he can't handle _that._

"No!"

"Yes~"

_"No!"_

"Kuroooooo!"

"I said no!" Kurogane roars, standing up; the cat leaps off his lap, meowing indignantly, "And that's fucking final!"

Fai blinks at him for a moment, before he _giggles _and points a finger straight in Kurogane's nose.

"Kuro-poet alliterates when he swears!" he declares gleefully, "Fucking final! Fucking final!"

Kurogane collapses back onto the bench, burying his face in his hands, and does not protest when Fai bundles the cat into the car, chirping 'fucking final~!' in a sing-song the whole time.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Kurogane sighs as he gets the busy tone for the fourth time in a row, and puts the phone down. As quietly as he can, he opens the door to his bedroom, and cringes when Fai's terrible warbling reaches him over the sounds of the shower running. He closes the door and returns to redial his mother's number.

Beeeeeeep. B—

He slams the phone down, groans, massages his temples, looks at the clock, groans again; it's almost dinner-time and Fai's been in the bathroom for a quarter of an hour. No doubt about it, if Fai comes out here and sees that he hasn't even _started _dinner, he's _somehow—_by wheedling, blackmail and torture perhaps—going to pry the heart-stoppingly mortifying truth out of him.

That he still calls his mother every time he has to cook.

Storming over to the glass-topped coffee table in their sitting room, he snatches at the stack of magazines and falters as he catches sight of their takeaway from lunch. Could he…? But he'd told Fai that he was cooking, and serving of cold takeaway would simply ring of _failure. (failure…failure…failure… _came the dull echo in his mind. Kurogane shook his head once to get rid of the ridiculous voice that sounded disconcertingly like the head of investigations.) So instead, he angrily flips open the first magazine on the stack (a fitness magazine) and scans through it until he finds one of those handy recipes.

_Healthy Chicken Fajitas! _announced the glossy magazine paper from under his fingers, _Marinating chicken and peppers and onions in a highly flavored marinade and then grilling gives it all the flavor without fat! A spiced creamy yogurt sauce and avocado sauce wrapped in a corn tortilla with fresh cilantro keeps the fajitas healthy and fresh tasting! Ingredients!_

_1 cup packed cilantro leaves, plus extra for serving!_

Ah?

_3 scallions, cut into 1-inch pieces!_

Eh?

_1/8 teaspoon ground cumin!_

_What?_

_1/8 teaspoon ground coriander!_

What was _that?_

_Kosher salt!_

He closed the magazine. Any recipe that differentiated between salts was _far _too advanced for him. And he didn't actually recognize the names of all those ingredients. Kurogane marches over to the fridge and opens it as if looking at the things that he has in there will give him some clue as to what _exactly _he's supposed to do with them. (His mother gives him a shopping list every two weeks, and then instructs him with what to do with his groceries for the next two weeks until she gives him a new shopping list. Rinse and repeat.)

Red eyes widen as they land on his _savior._

Frozen food.

Somewhat doubtfully, he takes out a packet of frozen fries, frowning down at it. Frozen food was supposed to be easy, _right? _Just throw it into boiling water, into the oven, into the microwave, or into a pan, and it was done. _Right? _He tore into the plastic with his fingers. If his mother were on the phone, she would tell him to use a pair of kitchen scissors, but it wasn't like he would listen anyway. He cursed and bent over the kitchen island as the frozen fries came tumbling out of the broken packet. And here was where his mother would sigh and tell him that was why he wasn't supposed to simply tear into the plastic like a savage beast. If she were on the phone. He picks the fries up with his hands (he grits his teeth and tries to ignore his mother's voice reprimanding him in his head) and dumps them on a plate he retrieves from the drying rack, then raises the packet up to eye level.

He stares at the ripped plastic where the instructions _should _have been, but is now a gaping hole where he had dug his fingers in.

Well.

Fries should be _fried, _right? That much was self-evident.

He starts the stove and takes out the pan he'd used to make the pancakes for breakfast, carefully pouring just enough oil to coat the bottom. _Don't use too much oil, Youou. You don't want your pancakes to be oily. _But fries were _always _oily. _No! _Kurogane reprimanded himself, _Hahaue is always right! Just follow her instructions and you can't go wrong. _He up-ends the fries into the pan, and stumbles around looking for the spatula so that he can stir-fry them the way his mother taught him to do beef stir-fry three weeks ago. Finally, he returns with the spatula and tosses the fries about.

It doesn't seem to do much.

Frowning, he presses them down with the spatula, and immediately stops. Hadn't his mother said _not _to press down on his pancakes? _Leave them alone, _she had said. He frowns. But she hadn't told him to leave the _stir-fry _alone. So what was he supposed to do now? His bedroom door creaks open, and Fai emerges in a long-sleeved striped pullover and black sweatpants, hair in a turban once more and Souhi purring at his feet.

"Kuro-bête, what _are _you doing?" he laughed, walking over to the opposite side of the kitchen island and leaning against it, "Are you trying to cook fries in a _frying pan?"_

Kurogane stiffens.

"Fries should be _fried, _right?"

"Not in a _pan, _silly."

And Fai is still standing on the _other _side of the kitchen island, directing him from over it.

"_You _do it then," Kurogane growls at him, and thrusts the spatula at the blonde. To his surprise, Fai flinches, hands up as if to catch it. He'd seen that reaction in those who didn't catch things well, but from Fai's reflexes earlier that day (_earlier that day! _he remembers suddenly, _how could he have forgotten! he needed to make a report!) _he didn't think Fai would have much difficulties with ball games yet alone being _afraid _of the ball hitting him.

"I told you already, Kuro-forgetful!" he chirps after a moment, laughing airily, "I don't cook!"

"Liar," Kurogane retorts immediately, "Sakura said this morning that you made the best sweets."

Fai shrugged as Souhi began to make a ruckus around his ankles.

"Well. I don't cook anymore, and that's that," he says flippantly, "And you can't cook fries with a shallow pan like that. You need a deep-fryer for that."

Deep-fryer. He remembers deep-frying something before.

"I have a chip-pan for deep-frying," Kurogane tells him, and bends over to open up his cabinets, "I remember using it a long time ago. Aha!"

He emerges smugly with said chip-pan, but Fai's smile is a little guarded now, even as he bends to pick Souhi up from the ground. Souhi ceases her fussing at once, and begins to lick at her paws contentedly.

"My papa taught me as a child that chip-pans are a fire hazard," Fai informs him with that same guarded smile, taking a step back and stroking Souhi, "That's why the fire brigade encourages us to use deep-fryers instead."

Kurogane shrugs as he begins to prepare the chip pan, switching the stove off first so that the fries he has in the frying pan won't burn due to his neglect.

"I've used this chip-pan before," he tells the blonde, "And nothing happened."

Fai's smile grows a little more tense.

"It could happen this time," he says warningly, "It's a _fire hazard."_

Kurogane scowled at him over the island as he began to transfer the fries into the chip-pan.

"Not if you're careful."

"Lots of people are careful," Fai argues, a strange edge that Kurogane can't identify creeping into his voice, "But they still die in chip-pan fires."

"I'm not going to die in a _chip-pan fire _of all things," Kurogane scoffs, turning back to the stove with no small amount of irritation, and reaching for the switch the turn the fire back on.

"Kuro-" Fai begins, "You—That's what everyone says and you shouldn't—_Kuro!"_

The flames come on with a _click _and a _shzzz_, and Fai yelps, twitching in a movement as if he were torn between moving forward and moving backwards. After a short moment of watching the fries sizzling, submerged in oil, Kurogane grins.

"See?"

Fai stares at the flame for a long moment before speaking.

"Aren't you afraid of fire?" he asks quietly.

Kurogane turns and looks at him. Fai lowers his gaze, thick blonde lashes obscuring his eyes in a manner strangely enticing as he picks at the wool of his pullover, clearing his throat.

"No," Kurogane says shortly, turning back to the stove, "I'm insured."

The blonde is silent for a long moment.

"You should fear the fire, little moth," he murmurs, almost as if to himself, "You might get burnt."

Kurogane starts and turns around with wide eyes, but Fai is cuddling Souhi again, cooing in a sickening baby-voice, and pressing loud kisses to her face.

* * *

On the tiny television screen, the news broadcaster gestures towards the screen behind her, speaking solemnly about one thing or another. Kurogane stares blankly at her dolled-up face from his armchair, a bottle of sake between his fingers, not quite seeing her. Souhi purrs contentedly in his lap as he absently strokes her, dozing in the pleasant buzz of the news turned down low. Adjacent to him, Fai is curled up on the sofa on his side, blankets cocooned tightly around him. His breaths are loud and deep; he doesn't snore like a trumpet the way Kurogane has heard men on the subway snoring. The lights are all off but a small light in the kitchen behind them, and the light from his old, boxy television casts moving highlights and shadows over Fai's sleeping face. Long, yellow-brown lashes; long regal nose and neatly creased lids; delicate bone structure, _elfin _in the way both men _and _women alike seldom are; plump lips, a pale coral pink hue; and a dusting of barely-there freckles over pale, _pale _skin.

Bastard, Kurogane thought. Charming, witty, polite, rich, and bloody fucking good-looking. Some people really had it all laid out for them. Kurogane sighed and absently brought the bottle to his mouth. A moment later, he choked as his own thoughts fully registered in his drowsy mind.

_Good-looking? _he repeated, aghast. _He's a goddamned idiot!_

Who was also good-looking. Coincidentally. But the idiocy took precedence over his good looks. He was _intolerable_, and his dashing face did nothing to change that. Kurogane emptied the rest of the bottle, and got up to put the bottle in the sink (he could use it to store other things) and get another, carefully lifting a dozing Souhi to the end of the couch where Fai's feet was. He stumbled once heading through the dark for the dimly lit kitchen, and treaded carefully from then on so that he wouldn't fall and wake his blonde guest. He put the bottle into the kitchen sink, yawning as silently as he could and rummaged through the cabinets for another bottle. In his back-pocket, his phone began to ring a loud Japanese rock song, and he curses quietly as he silences it, turning towards the couch.

Fai is still sleeping.

"What?"he hisses into the phone.

"Down at the docks," comes Watanuki's shaky voice over the phone, "Probably fell into the water in agony and drowned. There was blood on the rocks nearby, but we don't know who it is yet."

_"What?"_

A deep inhalation comes through the line.

"Look out of the window."

On the window-sill, the glowing display of his digital clock flashes half-past midnight. An angry black plume rises from the coast beyond the Divide like demons let loose from hell's gates, lit up at its base by fire and brimstone.

Fai slumbers on behind him, blissfully unawares.

* * *

**A/N: FINISHED THIS CHAPTER. It's longer than the others, I realized 0.o I find that I tend to write longer chapters when I plan them, because if not I'll usually stop at 3-5k words, depending on how inspired I am. But now that I have an outline, I HAVE to write a certain sequence of events within a chapter if not the plot will be all messed up! The recipe for the chicken fajitas come from www. foodnetwork recipes/ food-network-kitchens/ chicken-fajitas-recipe/ index. html and I really don't know how to cook. When I looked through that recipe, I was like... what are cilantro leaves? What are scallions? What? What? And Kurogane's inability to cook is really based off of my own inability to cook. I have trouble with instant noodles. Really. Don't laugh at me.**

**Anyway... Woot! Got the chapter out! And yep! Caldina is an assassin! She WAS an assassin in Magic Knights Rayearth after all. Oh, and thank you to that anonymous reviewer who pointed out the lapse in tense the last chapter. I haven't gotten around to correcting it _ But I will soon! And I'm glad you noticed the lights and candles and flames and moths there! I was doing my damnest to shove it all in your faces, hehe. Also, since I'm kinda writing Moths concurrently with another fic of mine (From the Ashes) that is in good ol' third-person past tense, I might mix up the tenses once in a while. If you do notice a lapse in tense, don't hesitate to tell me so I can correct it!  
**

**Ugh, I'm really tired so I'm gonna end this AN off here and go to bed. Please review! Reviews make me feel loved.**


	7. The Murder of Jim Hartlet

**Summary: Kurogane teaches Fai a lesson, and finds something of his that Fai doesn't want him seeing. More mysteries surround the blonde than Kurogane can unravel. During the midnight hours, a murder takes place at the mental institute.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: This chapter is so freaking long!**

* * *

The blasting guitars and Japanese vocals of his ringtone wakes him the next morning. It's not a particularly nice way to wake up, but Kurogane rolls over and snatches his phone from the nightstand anyway.

"What?"

Doesn't mean he has to be polite about it.

"Good morning," the head's secretary greets.

Kurogane groans and flops back onto his pillows. He does _not _want to deal with work first thing in the morning. A moment later, he rolls out of bed, stifling a yawn, opens his wardrobe, and dons the first office-appropriate shirt he sees before pulling on a pair of dress pants. Watanuki chuckles a little sadly as he strides out into his living room, rubbing at his eyes. On the sofa, Fai is fast asleep, curled up on his side.

"You sound unhappy to hear from me."

"Do you think I want to hear from _you _first thing in the morning?" Kurogane retorts rudely.

"Well, I suppose I can't really say much to that," the secretary says, "The higher ups have ordered personnel to stand watch outside the ward. Your charge for tonight is a man named Jim Hartlet."

Kurogane lumbers drowsily over to his small kitchen counter. He grabs a random mug from the rack, takes one look at the puppy staring at him from its surface, then puts it back and picks another.

"Hello?" Watanuki calls, "You still there?"

The investigator makes a deep rumbly noise in his chest before he replies.

"Yeah, I am. What ward?"

Watanuki sighs as Kurogane flicks the coffeemaker on.

"The _mental _ward," he reminds Kurogane, exasperated, "The one I told Syaoran to tell you about yesterday."

Kurogane immediately snaps awake at that, even though the coffee is not quite brewed, and he has yet to take even a sip of the bitter drink.

"_That _ward? LMI?" he scoffs, "They believed him?"

In the silence that follows, Kurogane guesses that Watanuki had shrugged over the phone, and makes a mental note to remind the boy to stop nodding or shrugging or doing whatever it is he does over the phone. It's not like Kurogane can see him anyway.

"In any case," the boy finally says, "You're on shift tonight from eleven onwards. That's what I called to tell you."

Abruptly, Watanuki's tone turns dark.

"Have the cameras been set up?"

Kurogane frowns.

"Of course not."

A pause.

"Then pray that nothing happens tonight."

A click. The disconnect tone sounds.

Kurogane puts his phone away, grumbling under his breath. He doesn't know what it is with people and hanging up with cryptic remarks instead of polite goodbyes. It may not really be his thing, but he thought that saying goodbye before hanging up was common courtesy. Discontent from discourtesy soon turns to discontent at the general state of things with crime in the city. It's all about appearance of course. The monitoring of the mental ward, even Fai's presence here in his apartment, it was all a part of the attempt to ward off public criticism. In other words, an ineffective waste of time and resources. That madman's simply off his rocker, to put it plainly, and Fai… Kurogane thinks back to the night before. Fai had been there the whole time, even with the blaze on the horizon. His limp-wrist attitude, his whimsical idiocy, his damnable kindness evidenced by the large furry animal curled around his feet—how _could _he have the heart to take a life?

In his pocket, his phone buzzes.

_'Heard dat sumthing happened lunch yesterday. Report 2 me immediately HQ! - Yuuko'_

Kurogane starts, reminded abruptly of the assault at Clover—reminded of Fai's cold, methodological efficiency in dispatching the waitress. Had he really nearly been fooled by the man's pretty face? By his inane smile and his whimsical laughter? His phone buzzes once more in his hand.

_'Now!'_

He stands, and casts an eye over at his sleeping guest. Fai lies perfectly still on the couch, save for his deep, rhythmic breathing. Souhi clambers over his legs and settles against his abdomen, so that he is curled up around her. Blonde hair splays out over mocha suede that looks so painfully plain beneath those strands like gossamer threads, like sunlight solidified. The blonde's pale face looks porcelain, cupids-bow lips relaxed in sleep, cheeks dusted with the barest of a rosy blush. Doll-like, innocent, _fragile _in a way that quietly and subtly instilled the urge to protect, to defend.

_That man was dangerous._

* * *

As usual, talking with Yuuko was frustrating as hell. Ignoring the rickety old elevator that Fai still insisted on taking every time he could, Kurogane storms up the stairs and down the hall, still fuming. He throws the door open—the door isn't locked; that _idiot!—_ to the sight of Fai standing at the window, phone to his ear. On the television screen, some black-and-white European film plays. The cadences of the language, foreign to him, is a muffled background noise to Fai's murmur that cuts off the moment Kurogane barges in. The blonde starts at the sight of him, jerking almost as if he were trying to jump out of his skin.

"Alright then," he says a moment later, turning his attention back to his caller, "Just see what you can do okay? Mmhmm."

He turns a sly blue eye to Kurogane.

"My husband is home," he teases indirectly with saccharine mock-adoration, "Waiting for my affections. I have to go or he'll be _jea~lous~ _Au revoir, darling!"

He snaps the cell-phone shut, and sashays across the living room, blue eyes enticingly half-lidded. Kurogane watches the movement of slim hips for a moment, before he tears his eyes roughly up to Fai's face. With a slow, feline grace, Fai slinks up against him, sliding femininely slim arms around a tanned neck. Seductive. Alluring. Tempting pink lips and fluttering lashes.

"Bienvenu de retour, mon amour," he whispers, "I forgot to ask but…Veux-tu m'épouser?" (1)

Kurogane grips him around one arm; it is hard, muscled underneath those ridiculous shirts with those ridiculous cuts that makes Fai look like a goddamned girl. For the first time, Kurogane wonders if that had been intentional. Hadn't he almost been fooled by the blonde bastard's charms? Kurogane shrugs the man off, holding him at arms length as Fai reaches for him with a '_kyaa~!' _making smoochy faces at him. Kurogane makes a face.

"Yeah yeah, okay," he agrees disgustedly, "Whatever it is, I'll do it if you get off me."

Fai blinks at him for a moment, blue eyes wide, before he bursts out laughing.

"It's a promise then! Now you have to take responsibility!" he chortled, "Faisons l'amour. Je veux un bébé de toi!" (2)

"Sure, sure," Kurogane grumbles, and walks _around _the blonde, giving him a wide berth, pausing at the doorway as he passed the sofa, "What's that?"

"What's what, honey?" Fai murmurs, taking the chance to press against his back, curling long fingers into Kurogane's shirt. Kurogane squirms out of his hold again.

"Stop that!" he growls, "I'm not your husband!"

He brandishes a finger at the forlorn looking plastic bag sitting on the coffee table. Fai leaves him to peek into said plastic bag.

"It's the pasta from Clover," he says, with some surprise, "I'd forgotten about it. We should have had it for dinner last night."

Well, Kurogane had forgotten about it too.

"Throw it away," he grouses, settling heavily onto the couch and beginning to unbutton his shirt, "Where is Souhi?"

"Out roaming the streets, probably. Like most cats do."

Kurogane hums noncommittally, and Fai seats himself on the sofa as well, grinning as the couple on the screen begin to make out and sidling up against the investigator. He had seemed to have stopped with his sexual harassment the past few days, but now that he had settled down in this unfamiliar environment, the molestation seemed to be back in full-force.

"Kuro-baise," he murmurs, voice strained as if close to laughter, "Je veux ta bite. Baisez-moi." (3)

"Alright," Kurogane agrees absently, "Get off."

Fai flutters his lashes.

"You want me to get off?"

Kurogane shoves him away with a growl. Fai stumbles back against the cushions, giggling hysterically as he curls up on his side.

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you, you crazy ass?!" Kurogane roars.

"Fuck?" Fai repeats, and then collapses back into a fit of laughter.

Somewhat helplessly (though he really does want to reach over and throttle the damn blonde), he grabs a pillow from his side and tosses it at Fai as hard as he can. The suede cushion merely bounces off harmlessly as Fai brings his arms up in front of his face, still gasping for breath.

"Why don't you help me get off then?" he manages to choke out, before the laughter takes him over once more. It takes Kurogane a moment to get what he's referring to, then he shoots up, onto his feet.

_"Fucking sick pervert!" _he yells. His face is hot. He's sure he's blushing.

"You agreed to it!" Fai protests, trying to school his expression into one of indignation; he fails miserably, "I said I wanted your babies, and you said _okay."_

_"What?!" _Kurogane bellows, "What kind of perverted things are you saying in languages I can't understand?!"

Fai shields his face with his arms again as Kurogane snatches up the other pillow and throws it as well. Fai catches it and hugs to to his chest, rolling around the couch in hysterics_._

"You said yes!" he howls, "We're getting married!"

Kurogane gets up, tears the pillow from Fai's grasp, and tries to smother the man with it.

Awhile later, after the chaos has settled down once more, they sit in front of the television. Kurogane still can't understand the language, but after the endless days of teasing and sexual harassment in a foreign language, he can tell that its French. Vaguely, he wonders how Fai is fluent enough in French to be able to listen to the rapid chatter issuing from the television. From what he remembers of Fai's database profile, he remembers that Fai is a local citizen. But he also remembers him telling the singer at Clover about someone of his—a friend? a family member?—going to Paris on business. Perhaps he'd visited France or spoken to that friend/family member enough that he'd grown fluent in the language as well?

It was a mystery.

The muffled melody of a silly music-box tune tinkles over the sounds of the television turned down low. Fai lazily reaches for his back pocket, and takes out his cell-phone, flipping it open after checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" he greets quietly, "Has everything been settled?"

A moment in which the caller is presumably saying something, then Fai shifts a little, transfers the phone to his other ear, and speaks.

"Alright. Good. Mmhmm," he smiles, "Thank you for that. Good luck."

He hangs up. Kurogane frowns.

"Was that the same person as just now?" he asks, "What was that about?"

Fai turns blue eyes to him, and shrugs.

"Some overzealous good samaritan decided to check one of my girls into a mental ward," he frowns, "Chii is _not _mad."

Kurogane turns back to the screen, not quite seeing the couple giggling through the hallways of some fancy hotel.

"So what now?"

Fai flips his phone closed with an audible _click _and then slips it back into his back pocket.

"One of the girls is going down to the mental ward to get her out now."

"Which mental ward is it?"

Fai frowns, then extracts his phone once more and flips it open. After fiddling with it for a moment, he looks up again.

"Lumen Mental Institute."

Surprised, Kurogane turns to him.

"I have to be there on shift tonight!"

Fai looks surprised as well.

"What a… coincidence," he murmurs, frowning. The expression is gone in a moment, replaced by a startlingly genuine smile, "Well, if Kuro-husband sees a girl in a French maid uniform… Take care of my girls, okay?"

That said, he turns back to the screen, stashing his phone away once more. Surprised, Kurogane watches him for a moment, watches his profile lit up from behind by the window. And for the first time, it fully hits Kurogane. _Kindness, _he thinks, _Fai is kind._

A loud thump breaks him from his thoughts.

He looks up, and barely prevents his jaw from dropping open. Instead, he cringes a little. On the screen, the couple has finally reached their hotel room, and were busy divesting each other of their clothes. An evasive pan away, before cutting to a shot of the man and the woman between the sheets. Loud moans issue from the television, along with the rhythmic knocking of the headboard against the wall. Kurogane tries not to think of Fai sitting on the armchair, watching this as well. He is no stranger to bedroom matters, but watching _this _with another guy is just plain awkward.

As the moans escalate into shrieks, Kurogane tries not to hide his face in his hands at the almost pornographic shots that starts to play on the screen. Instead, he sneaks a look at Fai to see his reaction, and Fai catches his eye. A sly grin spreads slowly across that pale face, and Kurogane feels the familiar dread beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach as single pale hand snakes down a flat abdomen. Adjacent to him, Fai sits sideways on the chair, long legs dangling over one rest, and his back propped up against the other. One hand disappears below the top of the armrest, between legs just slightly spread. It is clear that Fai is pretending to touch himself.

Either that, or he really does have his hand down his pants. Kurogane wouldn't put it past him.

"I _do _hope you don't mind," he murmurs lecherously, "But I really haven't had much… _private time _in this tiny apartment where I don't even have a room to myself. I'm sure you know how _frustrating _it gets."

As Fai begins to moan over the _screaming _coming from the television, Kurogane splutters and averts his eyes in disbelief. His face is heating up again, and he knows that must amuse Fai. Kurogane tries to tune out Fai's moaning, thinking back to the man's plainly _inappropriate _teasing. Mind made up, Kurogane stands, plastering a predatory smirk on his face as he turns slowly to Fai.

_Someone needs to teach him a lesson._

Like a doe caught under a lion's eye, Fai freezes as Kurogane takes a step forward, red eyes dangerously half-lidded. Kurogane's living room is small enough that he reaches Fai in two steps, and looms over the smaller man. From this angle, he can see that Fai had been bluffing; his hand was on his thigh. Pale face tilted up, Fai watches him with wide blue eyes. Kurogane feels the smirk become more genuine as he leans down, planting his hands on either side of the lithe blonde, effectively caging Fai within his arms.

"Why don't I help you with that?" he rumbles, voice low over the muffled sounds still coming from the television.

Fai _squeaks _as Kurogane grabs him around the waist and drags him down, so that he is lying flat across the armchair beneath the larger man, his blonde head cushioned on the rest of the chair and his legs spread to either side of Kurogane's body. It is a _very _compromising position, one that Kurogane would never subject himself to all for a mere joke, but the look on Fai's face instills in him a smug sense of sadistic satisfaction so great that he can't bring himself to care. Fai opens his mouth, eyes still wide in shock, and closes it when no sound comes out.

With another startled squeak, Fai's hands fly up to push weakly against Kurogane's chest as he leans down as if to kiss him, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt as he does. Kurogane bites back his laughter.

"Don't run, little butterfly," he murmurs, and almost bursts out laughing at the cheesiness of his own words, and Fai's reaction to it.

In his haste to get away from him, Fai falls right over the edge of the armrest. He lands with a thump and an undignified yelp out of Kurogane's sight, and Kurogane immediately straightens and begins to _howl _with laughter. A moment later, Fai's head pops into view over the armrest as he sits up, disheveled. The top few buttons of his shirt are still undone, his clothing wrinkled and creased, hair tousled in a way almost post-coital. The barest hint of a rosy blush dusts across his cheekbones and nose-bridge, but it is enough for Kurogane. He stands, grinning as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I'm going out to get groceries," he says as casually as he can, snagging his wallet from the table as he leaves.

Even the sound of the door shutting behind him rings with a distinctively smug finality.

* * *

A flick of a switch, and the whirring of the engine dies down into silence. Across the parking lots, empty and occupied, he can see a woman with a kid pushing her shopping trolley into a row of others. A moment later, she retrieves a dollar coin, and pockets it before taking her son's hand, heading presumably for her car. Coin-operated locking mechanism? Kurogane sighs and reaches for his back pocket; he isn't sure if he has coins. He digs his wallet out and opens the coin pocket. He has a single miserable dollar. He upends it into his palm and swings his legs out of the car. A bright flash of pain cheerfully greets him.

_"Fuck!"_

His curse echoes through the basement, and the mother stiffens, then turns to glare at him over the tops of the cars between them, clutching her son to her side. Kurogane falls back into the seat, rubbing his forehead. People needed to make cars taller! He _always _hits his head coming out of cars. Ignoring the disapproving looks from the woman, he continues cussing as he gets out of the car, _carefully, _and heads for the row of trolleys. It is only when he reaches them that he realizes that he's lost his only coin.

Probably back at the car, he thinks, grumbling as he turns and makes his way back to the shiny blue Jaguar. He unlocks the car, and wrenches the driver's door open. First he checks the polished leather of the seat, then the floor near the pedals and just outside the door. Nothing. With a sigh, he drops to his knees to peer under the seat. It takes a moment before his eyesight adjusts enough for him to make out anything in the darkness under the seat, but when it does, the first thing he sees is the fuzzy outline of some kinda small package or something. Squinting even as the outline coalesces into a more solid form, he reaches out for it. He curses again as he knocks his elbow into the door, then contorts his shoulder uncomfortably to get his hand under the seat. A moment later, he feels smooth leather under his fingertips, and curious, pulls the object out. Rubbing his eyes, he straightens.

It's a wallet.

A fine one of light-brown leather, just a little worn at the edges. At the bottom right hand corner of it, the initials F.D.F. were detailed in black cursive on a silver plate. Fancy, Kurogane scoffs mentally, and flips it open. Fai's face stares back at him, grinning happily with his arms around the waist of someone, back turned to the camera. A woman, Kurogane decides after a moment, one in a white office blouse and a frilly blue and white checkered apron. The photo is faded, but the quality of it sharp enough that Kurogane can see the droplets of water running like tears down a smooth, pale nape from a navy towel darkened with wetness. The towel is wrapped around the woman's head like a turban, effectively bundling away the entirety of her hair into a neat cocoon.

This must be the person Fai lived with before, Kurogane realizes.

There is about twenty-seven dollars in bills and some coins in a little pouch. With the pouch, Kurogane finds a little kitten charm, crafted of white gold with shimmering sapphires for eyes and a diamond in its collar. A little piece of paper is attached to it, reading: _un cadeau spéciale pour mon chaton bien-aimé._ He begins to look through the cards in the wallet; credit cards, club memberships, a single business card, edges soft and crumpled from age, recipes scribbled hastily onto little scraps of paper with dates or events noted on them, an ID that read: Fai D. Flourite (oh, he thinks, feeling rather stupid all of a sudden, that's what the initials stood for—this is his wallet), and several cards left unsigned, all written in the same handwriting. _Happy birthday, Fai! _is scribbled across one. _When you eventually find this in the kitchen cabinet, please don't be mad that I broke the wineglasses. Love you lots! _reads another._ If you find this in your pocket before you throw it in the wash, I just wanted to say I love you! _etc. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for just _who _that single business card was from. Yuuko Ichihara, the neat print reads, Head of Investigations. Kurogane thinks back as far as he can, but he cannot remember a time that they'd met. Had they met without his knowing? When? And _why? _What was going on?

His panic dies abruptly down as he reaches a sort of realization. Yes. The witch had probably met Fai _before _listing him as a main suspect. How silly of him to suspect some sort of conspiracy. Though really, no one could blame him considering the state that the police force was in. He shudders to think of Fai and Yuuko knowing one another; they would surely get along swimmingly, and hell would befall the unfortunate people of the city—Kurogane first on the list. Question resolved, he moves onto another pressing one: _who was the woman in the picture?_

"Oi! Mister! You alright?"

Kurogane starts, and turns. An impish little face framed with short black hair peeks at him over the hood of the car behind him.

"What?" Kurogane asks flatly, and regrets it when the little boy cringes.

"Well, you were cussing," the boy mutters timidly, "And then you just sat there on the floor, not moving for ages. I thought you might have hurt yourself."

Kurogane straightens up, and the boy stares up at him with awe as he uncurls to his full height.

"Woah! You're really tall, mister!" he cries, "Are you even human?"

With a snort, Kurogane slams the door of the car shut. A beep echoes through the basement as he locks it before he turns around ruffles the boy's hair.

"No," he growls playfully, "I'm a half-giant. Half-giants never hurt themselves. And if you weren't such a good kid, I'd eat you."

The boy shrieks, ducking away as Kurogane makes as if to grab him, laughing all the while.

"Toshihiko-kun?" calls a woman's voice from somewhere out of sight, "We're ready to go! Where are you? Watch out for cars!"

The child—Toshihiko—turned, craning his tiny neck in an effort to look over the cars.

"That's my mom," he says, "I can't see her. Can you, mister half-giant? You're so tall."

Kurogane turns, and spots a black-haired woman a short distance away, standing by a small brown car.

"Yeah, I can. Here—" he catches Toshihiko under his arms, and lifts him up over the tops of the cars, "She's over there."

He lowers the boy to the ground, and he attempts to dart off across the road.

"Oi, oi, oi!" Kurogane chides, snagging the boy up by the back of his collar, "Watch out for cars! We're in a carpark you know!"

He hesitates for a moment, and decides that even if it wasn't included in the job description, getting little kids safely across roads was probably his duty as a police officer. Swinging Toshihiko up into one arm, he looks right, then left like a model pedestrian, before crossing across the roads and between the occupied lots until he reaches the boy's mother.

"Ma'am," he greets curtly, and lowers the child to the floor.

Toshihiko runs over to his mother, but pauses as he begins to climb into the car.

"Thanks mister half-giant!" he calls from the car door, "You're a nice half-giant."

He disappears into the car as the woman turns to eye Kurogane up and down.

"You don't work here, do you?"

Kurogane finds himself subtly straightening, folding his fingers together neatly behind his back. (The woman looks startlingly like his mother.)

"No ma'am. I'm a civil servant."

"Oh."

The woman eyes him once more, as if looking at him in a different light. Finally, she cranes her head up and looks him in the eye.

"You're a decent young man," she says matter-of-factly, "Just need to cut down on those vulgarities."

Kurogane can feel his ears turning red, the heat gradually spreading to his cheeks. He bows stiffly to the woman—

"Thank you, ma'am."

—and _flees_ towards the lift lobby going up to the supermarket; the woman's chortles echo through the carpark.

* * *

"Oi, you _idiot!"_

Fai startles upright on the couch, where he had been lying, still watching that French movie. Kurogane slams the front door behind him and locks it.

"How careless are you to lose your wallet in your own car, _baka?"_

"Wallet?" Fai asks, confused, "It's right here!"

He takes out his wallet, a kiddy yellow thing made of the rubbery material Kurogane often sees on wellington boots. Kurogane cringes when he realizes that its a _SpongeBob _wallet. He sets the groceries down on the dining table, and takes the leather wallet from his pocket.

_"This _one, moron!" he groans, tossing it into Fai's lap, "It was under the driver's seat. Who's that woman?"

Fai picks the wallet up, still confused.

"Woman? What woma—"

Abruptly, he quietens. Fascinated, Kurogane watches as he strokes a pale fingertip over the photo with such unfathomable grief in his blue, blue eyes. With the distinct aura of a man going through a ritual of mourning, he quietly searches through the contents of the wallet, reading each of the cards addressed to himself with sorrowful nostalgia. He sucks in a breath as he finds the charm amongst the coins, face twitching as he reads through the message attached to it.

_"Un cadeau spéciale pour mon chaton bien-aimé…" _(4)

Quietly, he ruffles through the bills and the coins, counting them.

"Twenty-seven dollars and sixty cents," he murmurs quietly, and then puts the money carefully back exactly as he'd found it. Kurogane takes a cautious step forward, and Fai starts at the rustle of his footstep. Immediately, the sorrow and the grief is tucked neatly away, swept aside by the stunningly _fake _smile that Fai slaps hastily on. Despite himself, Kurogane feels an irrational rage building in his chest.

"What a bother!" Fai moaned playfully, "If I'd known my wallet was just under the driver's seat, I'd never have gone through the trouble of replacing my ID! All those procedures are just so bothersome, don't you think, Kuro-mignon?"

Kurogane turns his back on the blonde, and begins to pack the groceries away.

"Don't avoid the question," he says curtly, "Who's that woman?"

There is the sound of movement from behind him, but he cannot see what Fai is doing with his back turned. A breathless giggle issues from the couch.

"Why, I have a truly amazing story about that! Care to listen, Kuro-nosy?" without waiting for a reply, Fai rambles on in that inane way of his, "She's a princess from Arabia that I brought back with me as my bride. It took me a long, _loooong _time to convince the Sultan that I was sincere! Did you know, he made me walk through the desert for three days without food and water to prove my unending devotion to her? I survived by drinking water from cactuses and eating scorpions! And then when I came back, it _still _wasn't enough for him, and he had me fight off a bunch of his guards for her hand. I thought I was going to die, but I emerged victorious! Surprise, surprise, eh? And then he threw me into a pit with a desert monster, and then I thought then: this is it! I'm _really _going to die here! But luckily at the last moment, the princess intervened and she said, _No! Don't kill my love! _and seeing the tears in her eyes and the pain he had caused his own beloved daughter, the Sultan—"

"If you don't want to tell me, just say so," Kurogane cuts him off rudely, "There's no need to lie, or make up an insane story like that."

He sorts the last of the groceries into the fridge, and dumps the non-perishables onto the shelves.

"I bought groceries, so you can cook dinner for yourself. I have to go to the ward."

He doesn't. His shift only starts at eleven. But he doesn't particularly want to stick around the blonde liar at the moment.

"Oh," Fai says, faltering, "I guess I'll eat out then."

"No," Kurogane says flatly, "You're not supposed to leave the apartment."

He hears the springs on the couch creak a little as Fai shifts around behind him.

"Then I'll eat the takeaway."

Kurogane is even more horrified by that thought.

_"No," _he says more strongly, somewhat disgusted, "That's _cream _pasta. It's probably gone bad by now. Throw it out."

"But I don't cook," Fai protests, "I already told you."

Kurogane turns around, lips pursed. Fai is kneeling on the couch, arms folded across the back of it and his chin resting on his forearms. Somehow, the mere _sight _of his face irritates Kurogane. He needs to get out of the apartment.

"Stop being a kid," he scoffs, "There were recipes in your wallet. I know you can cook. If you've _forgotten_ how to, follow those recipes."

Fai freezes, smile dropping right off his face.

"You searched through my wallet?!" he demands, brows knitting together, "What the _devil _made you think you had the right?!"

For a moment, Kurogane is shocked into silence at the aggression of Fai's response.

"How the _hell _would I know it was yours!?" he retorts, "I was checking for identification!"

"There were initials on the front!"

"Do you think I remember your goddamned full name?"

"Perhaps you could have _inferred _from the picture!"

"I thought it might have belonged to that woman in the picture!"

_"Does this look like a woman's wallet!?"_

"What's the matter with you? It's not like there's anything much in it!"

Fai swings his legs off the couch and stands, face thunderous.

"There's _everything _in it! How _dare _you! What made you think you could… you could _violate _my privacy like that!?"

Kurogane takes a step forward, looming over the smaller man.

_"Your _privacy?" he repeats incredulously, "You're the one invading _my _privacy! Do you think I _want _you here in my apartment? Do you think you'd actually be here if I had a _choice?!_"

Seemingly unintimidated by the fact that even with his considerable height, he has to look _up _into red eyes, the blonde only takes a step forward and prods a rough finger into Kurogane's chest.

"So you think that _I _want to be here? I'm not a _fucking _hobo! I have a fucking house and a fucking business to run! You think I need your goddamned charity?"

Kurogane falters for a split-second, surprised by the sudden vulgarity of Fai's speech when he'd always been nothing but polite and composed. But the hesitation only lasts a moment before the fury is back, sweeping all rationality away like a red-hot tide as he grabs Fai by the collar. Immediately, Fai slaps his hand away, elbowing him once in the ribs and socking him in the gut.

_"Don't touch me!"_

Turning his body slightly, Fai rams his shoulder into Kurogane, _hard, _slamming him back into the dining table. Against him, Fai is like a _battering ram_—a compact body of hard muscle and sharp, precise movements. The man's landed blows were stunning, but Kurogane recovers quickly. Pushing himself back up, he steps forward as Fai turns to retreat from him, and snatches the lithe man up by the back of his shirt, lifting him right off the ground. With no finesse but brute strength, Kurogane unceremoniously flings him onto the couch on his stomach, and plants a hand between his shoulder-blades to keep him down. Underneath him, the blonde struggles against him. As strong and agile as he is, Kurogane knows Fai can't beat him when it comes to brute strength. Fai eventually stills, but the next words that come out of his mouth sends a horrified chill down Kurogane's spine.

"Are you going to rape me?"

The words are passive, _resigned_. Kurogane withdraws his hand as if burnt. Without a word, he turns and walks out. The door slams shut behind him, so hard that it rattles in the doorframe.

* * *

A bell jingles overhead as he pushes the door open.

"Thank you for your service!" chime the two boys from behind him.

Their fiery little supervisor appears out of nowhere with a mallet, smacking them both on the head.

"You forgot to say 'please come again' !"

"Please come again!" they shout after him, just as the door clicks shut behind him.

With a sigh, Kurogane turns and begins to trudge down the path. The streetlights shine down on him, but their glow is practically drowned in the cacophony of sound and lights around him. Blue, green, red, yellow, whatever color there is, there are lights of that color. Blinking, flashing, a solid glare, dim or bright or constantly changing in colors, there is light all around him, so much as to be painful to the eye. When he cranes his neck, he can see large LED screens fixed onto skyscrapers and nearby buildings, screening advertisements, announcements, the news, etc. _This _side of the city never sleeps, and around him, teenagers and adults roam the streets. The only ones who should be asleep are the children—those with curfews. Music blasts from the stores around him, along with the muffled sounds of voices projected from speakers that clashes with the never-ending chatter of the people around him in monstrous disharmony.

Kurogane turns down the next alley, but abruptly whips around when he sees a couple making out against the wall. He strides quickly over to the next one over, and discreetly checks for enamored teenagers before he deems it safe. Striding down into the dimmer light of the alleyway, he sits on a step in front of an unused side-door, probably of the shop in that building. The sounds of electronic chaos are muffled from where he sits, and the rustle of plastic bags as he takes his dinner out of the department store bag is loud in the sudden quiet.

Chilled sushi and microwaved macaroni and cheese (with nutritious chicken on the side!). It is a terrible combination that will clash horribly on his palette, but it can't be helped. Nudging away the plastic bag, weighed down by the cat food and treats he'd gotten for Souhi, he digs in with the plastic cutlery he'd gotten from the store.

And _pointedly _does not think about Fai. Fai and his mournful blue eyes. His smile as fake as the cutlery in his hands and the blinding lights around him. His stupid blonde hair and his stupid white teeth and his stupid, _stupid _lies. He does _not _think about the feeling of Fai's fists in his stomach, and his elbow in his ribs. He does _not _think about the feeling of his fingers in Fai's shirt, and his palm on Fai's back. He does _not _think about Fai's chilling words. He does _not._

Kurogane growls and tears the chicken apart with his teeth in a sudden display of violence. Abruptly, the aggression dies down. The parts of the chicken still uneaten drops back down into the goop that is supposed to be cheese, and Kurogane lets his head fall back against the cold wall behind him with a sigh.

Fine. He _is _thinking about it.

Kurogane prods moodily at the mangled chicken and the macaroni with his fork. The sushi is still untouched on the step beside him because he wants to save the best for last. Not my fault, not my fault, not my fault, he chants stubbornly in his head.

_Are you going to rape me?_

With a groan, he begins to shovel the macaroni down. As before, the burst of madness dies down into disturbing thoughts, _terrible _thoughts. Could Fai… could Fai have been a victim of rape? He thinks back to his violent aversions to being touched, his fierce defense of his privacy. A victim of stalking and rape, perhaps? But yet it did not add up. His morbid words had stricken doubt in Kurogane, but Fai did not _act _like a victim of rape. He was much too touchy, much too willing to put himself in a suggestive position with another person, much too quick to make terribly inappropriate jokes. He wasn't afraid of men. Heck, he wasn't afraid of _Kurogane—that _was evidence enough. And earlier in the day when Kurogane had played that prank on him, he hadn't reacted beyond shock. Being in a vulnerable position like that—splayed over a sofa underneath a larger, stronger man—should have triggered old traumas, had he ever been sexually assaulted or even molested. And even in the aftermath, he'd looked more embarrassed than shaken. It _just did not add up._

_Chhhh. Suwa-san! Hey, hey! This is Sorata! Where are you? Shift is starting in two minutes! Chhhh. Hey!_

"Shit!"

He shovels down the last two spoons or so of macaroni in the plastic container, and rips the packaging of the sushi open. He quickly stuffs three into his mouth (he can already hear his mother reprimanding him for bad table manners in his head) and begins to clear his trash into the plastic bag before throwing it into a nearby bin. That done, he shoves the cat food and the treats into the coat of his uniform and picks up the tray of sushi, quickly shoveling the rest down as he runs deeper into the shadows of the alley. Behind him, the sounds of the city gradually decline into silence, and the lights become dimmer and dimmer until eventually he is left with only the ample lights of the street-lamps. The alleys all converge into a network of them, but if he goes straight he will come out on another quieter road, Kurogane knows from the directions he'd been given. A quieter road along which Lumen Institute is built.

_Chhh. Officer Suwa?_

"I'm coming!" he yells into the radio.

Soon, the main road appears through the narrow gap between buildings, and Kurogane picks up the pace. With a low gasp, he emerges into the light of the main road, turns left, and continues to sprint down the rows of houses. This is a poorer residential area, thus the quietness. He passes a stretch of industrial blocks behind a wire-mesh fence topped with barbed wires before he catches sight of the institute ahead, a building lit up in the darkness slightly on a hill, with a thin path winding up to it. The walls are grey and like the industrial buildings, it is surrounded by fences and barbed wire. It is the largest institute in the city as far as Kurogane knows, holding close to 500 patients, and also the most funded. It is a terrible thought that even as the most funded institute in the city, it is in such a state.

The city has never cared much for invalids.

Breathing rhythmically through his nose, Kurogane runs the rest of the distance and turns into the path. The gate does not budge when he pushes at it, but a laminated set of instructions directs him to a little intercom by the side. He presses the intercom button and waits. A moment later, a voice reaches him.

_'Lumen Mental Institute. I'm afraid visiting hours are over. Please come back tomorrow.'_

Kurogane lets out a harsh breath.

"This is Officer Kurogane—"_fucking_, "—Suwa, here on orders of the police. _Please_ open the gate."

The word is a bitter presence on his tongue but he says it anyway, for courtesy's sake.

"Ah, Officer Suwa! Please wait a moment. Mihara-san, open the gate."

A moment, and then the locking mechanism on the gate clicks open. This time when he pushes, the gate swings open on squeaking hinges. The front door of the institute opens, and a man pokes his head out.

"Suwa-san!" he cries, "You're late!"

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Kurogane continues to stride up the path. He squints against the light, and eventually makes out enough of the man's face to identify him. Sorata Arisugawa. A guy around his age from one of the other branches. A capable man, but too much of a joker for Kurogane's liking. Sorata holds the door open for him, and Kurogane steps into the lobby to the sight of a familiar French maid dress.

"What is that supposed to mean?" demands the black-haired girl at the counter, just barely tall enough to glare at the receptionist over the counter, "Chii isn't crazy! You people are!"

Leaning against the wall is a younger officer, the notoriously feisty one called Kamui Shirou. Standing beside him is a woman officer, who he doesn't recognize, bickering with another man.

"Yamazaki no baka!"

"Really, Chiharu-chan! Didn't you know that in the past—"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Kurogane winces as the woman begins to strangle the man, shaking him back and forth as she does so.

"Don't mind them," Sorata says,"Shall we go then? We were waiting for you."

As Sorata herds them out of the reception and down a side door, in the direction indicated by the receptionist, Kurogane turns around. The girl is still at the counter, but this time Kurogane notices an abnormally large Siamese cat winding itself around her legs.

"I'm not leaving!" she cries, "If you don't let Chii out, I'm definitely going to sleep _right here! _Definitely!"

_Well, if Kuro-husband sees a girl in a French maid uniform… Take care of my girls, okay?_

With a groan, Kurogane stops in his track. So perhaps he _had _gone a little overboard with Fai. Perhaps he _should _have been a little nicer. Perhaps he _could _make it up to Fai, just this once.

"Excuse me," he grunts somewhat discontentedly at the receptionist, and she turns.

"Yes?"

Kurogane jerks his head at his colleagues. _Go ahead. _Getting the message, Kamui simply shrugs and continues on. The others follow with a little more hesitation. Kurogane turns back to the receptionist. She's a pretty woman who probably is a little older than Kurogane, with eyes as dark as her bangs and her long black hair, wearing a modestly cut blouse and a modest skirt that reached just below her black-stockinged knees. A simple yellow barrette pins one side of her hair away from her face and strangely enough, especially considering the weather, she wore black gloves that disappeared into her long sleeves.

"You know where that 'Chii' girl is, Miss…?"

"Yuki Mihara," the woman introduces with a gentle smile, "And yes. She's in ward #246. I checked her in this morning."

Kurogane frowns.

_"You _checked her in?"

Yuki nods.

"I found her wandering around the city, getting into trouble with a shopkeeper. I tried asking her what was going on, but she clearly was in no state of mind to give any coherent answer. I felt that being out there was too dangerous for her in such a fragile state, so I brought her here."

Kurogane sighs and drags a hand down his face.

"You do realize that she isn't insane, don't you?"

The receptionist only tilts her head just so.

"How do you know?"

Seeing no answer to that question, Kurogane decides to take a different approach.

"But that girl outside in the French maid getup. She's here to collect Chii isn't she? Chii has people to take care of her, so why don't you discharge her?"

Yuki shakes her head with a genteel smile.

"Yuzuriha-chan isn't related to Chii, so we cannot release her. We're still going through a complicated process to determine whether or not it is safe to release Chii to that girl who could very well be a stranger."

With another sigh, Kurogane extracts his phone from his pocket to check the time, and decides that he has no time to be arguing with this woman when he has a shift to take. But he supposes he can get an update for Fai.

"How is Chii?"

"She is well," answers the receptionist, "Having lots of fun with the psychiatrist in any case. Doctor Hideki has taken quite a liking to her. The last I saw of them, they were doing 'morning warm-up exercises' with Sumomo."

Kurogane peers down the corridor, realizing that he has no idea how to get to the ward.

"That's good," he says absently, "You have any idea which ward I'm supposed to go to?"

"Ward #169," Yuki replies immediately.

Kurogane blinks. That was… _helpful._ He had no idea where the fucking hell 169 was.

"Can you bring me there?"

At the question, the receptionist looked distinctively uncomfortable.

"Actually," she begins, "I'm new here. I only started working here yesterday, so I have no idea where anything is. Sorry."

Kurogane shrugs. Can't be helped.

"It's alright," he says gruffly, "I should be able to find the place."

Yuki grabs onto his sleeve as he wanders off, smiling apologetically.

"After my co-worker gives me directions, I'll be going down to the ward with drinks. If I don't see you then, I'll come looking for you to bring you there."

It is hard, but Kurogane manages to crack a smile as he thanks her and turns to leave. From the look on her face, he is not quite sure what his attempt at a genuine smile looked like. He needs to take smiling lessons from Fai. But for now, he just has to focus on finding that ward. It shouldn't take him more than five minutes. And if push came to shove, he could call his fellow officers through the radio.

* * *

1. 6. _Fucking _9.

He throws the door open with an angry relish. Inside, his co-workers jump to their feet. If they had guns, they would be aimed at him. But they don't, because the police force in this city are sissies, and you don't get warrants for guns. Ever. The control on firearms coming in and out of the city is tight, and the penalty for even being in _possession _of one was death. No one had guns, so the police didn't need guns either. At least, that's what the higher-ups thought. Kurogane thought it was all mind-blowingly stupid.

"You're fucking bad with directions, you know?!"

He marches into the room and collapses into the nearest available chair, rubbing at the throbbing spot between his brows. Sorata only shrugs apologetically. The room that they're in is completely white, save for the metal chairs and the metal table in it. There are two doors in the room, one leading out into the hallway where Kurogane came from, and the other probably leading into the ward where the patient was kept, by himself. Empty glasses litter the tray sitting on a table between them, along with an empty pitcher; that receptionist had probably come and gone, then. Kurogane wonders if she was still within the complex, searching for him.

"Someone brought drinks just now," Sorata says needlessly, "But we've finished them all. She said she'd bring more later, if you want."

Kurogane makes a disapproving noise low in his chest.

"We're here to serve," he scoffs, "Not to _be _served."

Across the table, Kamui rolls his eyes, and rebelliously chugs down the rest of his lemonade. Notorious, that one.

At that moment, the door creaks open, and everyone of them is on-guard once more. But it is only the black-haired receptionist, looking a little more frazzled since Kurogane had last seen her.

"Oh," she says a little breathlessly, as she catches sight of him, "You're here. That's good. I brought you something to drink."

She toes the door open and comes in with another tray of iced lemonade.

"I didn't bring glasses, because we didn't have enough," she says, sounding almost baffled at the thought that the office pantry of a mental institute could have so little glasses. Kurogane thinks that she ought not to be so baffled. Offices weren't _cafes _or somethingafter all.

She carefully pours each of their glasses, including the untouched one that was presumably Kurogane's.

"Thank you. And did you know? Lemonade was invented by the Spartans of old! But at that time, the Spartan soldiers were made to drink pure lemon juice everyday, with no sugar! This was because the terrible sourness of it would make them more appreciative of the terrible food they'd get during wartime. But eventually, some of the smarter ones began to secretly add sugar into their daily glasses of lemon juice, and realized that lemon juice tasted pretty good with sugar. Soon, _everyone _was putting sugar into their lemon juice, and they eventually titled this mix of juice and lemon, lemonade! And that's how the saying, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" came about."

"Lies!" shouts the woman officer, and begins to strangle the man once more.

The receptionist looks at them with concern, but eventually checks her watch with a strange urgency.

"I'm sorry, but I have other matters to attend to right now," she tells them, and all but runs out, calling over her shoulder, "Please do enjoy the lemonade!"

The door shuts behind her, and Sorata looks vaguely confused.

"What could she possibly have to do at this time of night?" he asks, baffled.

Kurogane shrugs, and a sullen silence meets him from Kamui's end; the other two are too involved in their bickering to notice anything else around them.

Their question is answered a moment later when, from outside, Kurogane hears loud clattering and the smashing of glass. A moment later, running footsteps and muffled yelling ensues. Kamui stands and opens the door a crack to peer out into the corridor.

"Inuki!" Kurogane hears the familiar cry of that young girl, and feels abruptly like his stomach has dropped through down through his legs, through his feet, through the floor, "What's the matter, Inuki? Come back!"

Kamui closes the door and sits back down with a careless shrug. Normalcy resumes, but guilt gnaws away at Kurogane's subconscious once more.

_Take care of my girls, okay?_

Suppressing a groan for the benefit of his audience, Kurogane stands. He really, _really _has no idea why he is doing this.

"I'm going go check it out," he tells the rest of them, "Stay here."

He closes the door quietly behind him, and simply follows the sounds of chaos down the dim corridors until he makes a final turn and is almost run over by what appears to be a _stampede._

"Sorry, mister!" cries the girl in her little French maid getup, saluting him as she runs past him after a black-and-white streak darting down the hall. Hot on her heels is an army of nurses and staff, charging after the runaway cat like dogs. As a janitor passes him, brandishing a broom, Kurogane breaks out of his shock and begins to run along with them. With a burst of speed, he overtakes the crowd of staff, and soon catches up with the girl sprinting down the corridor, fluffy black skirts flying behind her. She starts as he appears beside her.

"Woah!" she says with some awe, "You're fast, mister!"

Ahead, the cat darts into an open doorway, and they turn sharply into the room, after it.

"It's gone into the medicinal stores!" cries someone from behind them, just as Kurgane freezes. He sees a long tail flicking out of sight into the open doors of a cabinet.

"Gotcha," he says with a predatory grin, but a brunette in a white coat restrains him.

"No!" he cries, "Don't startle her! All the cabinets aren't separated from one another, and she might break all the bottles in there!"

"What?" Kurogane growls, "What kind of cabinets are _connected?! _And why the hell don't you use plastic bottles?"

The man shrugs helplessly.

"Does it really matter? We just have to get her out."

At the opening to the cabinet, the girl—Yuzuriha, Kurogane remembers from his conversation with the receptionist—is on her hands and knees, head inside the cabinet.

"Inuki," she calls, "Inuki!"

"Doctor Hideki," asks a nurse nervously, "What now?"

"The cabinets are connected, right?" Kurogane affirms, "Let's open up all the doors and catch her."

The doctor shook his head.

"If we open the doors, we might startle her. By the time we catch her she'd have broken half the bottles in there. I guess we just have to try to lure her out, and hope she hasn't broken anything for now."

For a moment, everything is still as everyone simply watches Yuzuriha vainly attempting to call the cat out of the cabinet. Then suddenly, Kurogane is hit with a sudden inspiration. The doctor looks at him strangely as he begins to search through his coat pocket.

"I have cat treats on me," he explains, pulling out the unopened packet of biscuits.

Hideki seems surprised.

"You have a cat?" he asks, "You don't seem like a cat person."

Kurogane shrugs as he rips the packaging open.

"My housemate took in a stray."

He bends down and tosses a biscuit into the cabinet. It clatters inside, and an inquisitive meowing echoes out of the open doors. The doctor bends down beside Yuzuriha to peer into the darkness of the cabinet.

"That's kind of him, or is it a her?" he comments somewhat absently, "What did you name the cat?"

"Inuki?" Yuzuriha calls, "Come out, boy, we have treats!"

"I didn't name it. My housemate did. He named her Souhi."

Yuzuriha stiffens on the floor.

"You're Kurogane-san!" she says suddenly, turning around to look at him with new eyes, "How is Fai-san? And how is Souhi?"

Kurogane shrugs as he hands the treats to the doctor.

"The idiot is fine," he replies, "An idiot as always. Souhi was in pretty good condition for a stray, so she's fine as well."

Another biscuit clattered down the cabinet, followed by the piercing sound of shattering glass. Hideki cringed.

"I think that was my fault," he says, and quickly hands the treats to Yuzuriha.

"Try not to break anymore bottles," one of the other staff pleads from behind, a pretty woman in glasses, with black hair tied back into a ponytail and a beauty mark under one eye. To be honest, the rest of the crowd behind him (gosh, it looked as if the entire hospital was in here) had been so quiet that he had forgotten about them all. The woman who had spoken steps forward, "We aren't a priority to the city, so we don't get a lot of funding. We won't be able to afford any damages."

A guilty look washes over Yuzuriha's face.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I'll pay for anything that Inuki breaks."

Shaking her head vehemently, the woman frowns.

"They're expensive. We can't possibly make a child pay for all that!"

Hideki shakes his head as well.

"Sayaka-san is right. We can't make a child pay for damages."

Kurogane sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Look kid, you're here on that idiot's orders right?"

Yuzuriha looks confused.

"You mean Fai-san? Yes."

Kurogane shrugs.

"Let's make that moron pay damages she breaks. He seems to have plenty of money to me."

_Take that, bastard._

"Inuki is a _he," _Yuzuriha says somewhat crossly, "Not a she."

Kurogane's apology to the indignant girl never comes. At that moment, a tentative meow comes from the doorway, and they all whip around to see the Siamese cat sitting in the open doorway of the cabinet on its haunches, tail swaying behind it. _Crunch crunch crunch _goes the biscuit in its jaws. It swallows down the biscuit, and stares at them.

_"Meow."_

"Inuki!"

"Don't startle her!" whispers the janitor.

"Him!" Yuzuriha corrects and turns back to the cat, arms held out, "Come here, boy!"

Tail flicking once, Inuki took one step forward, and bounded into Yuzuriha's arms, nuzzling at her face in a distinctively _un_-feline way, purring deep in its chest like a contented growl. A moment later, crunching echoes through the room as Yuzuriha feeds him another biscuit, still showering kisses and praises onto its furry face. The staff immediately go about opening the cabinets and checking the extent of damage.

"Nothing," says the doctor with some amazement.

"She didn't break anything," Sayaka murmurs.

"He!" Yuzuriha says crossly, "And Inuki knows better than to go around breaking other people's things! He's the best-trained kitty ever!"

"There's one broken bottle here," someone calls, but the doctor turns red.

"I think that's the one I broke," he says sheepishly.

Kurogane sighs and stands.

"I'm going back."

Yuzuriha catches up to him in the corridor, Inuki purring contentedly in her arms.

"Thank you, Kurogane-san," she chirps, "You forgot your treats by the way."

Straining a little not to drop the cat in her arms, she passes the packet of biscuits back to him. Kurogane stashes it away in his coat once more, and shrugs.

"I was just doing a favor for that moron, nothing more."

"A favor for Fai-san?"

He nods.

"Told me to look out for you girls."

A wide smile immediately lights the girl's face, and there is a sudden spring to her step.

"Fai-san is always looking out for us!" she tells him happily, "Life's been so much better since I met Fai-san!"

Inuki meowed in her arms, and began to paw at Yuzuriha's grasp. Frowning, Yuzuriha squeezes the cat tightly to her chest, and presses a reassuring kiss to a white ear.

"I'm sorry about the trouble," she says, suddenly sober again, "Inuki is normally well-behaved, but something spooked him just now, and he just took off. I wasn't looking so I don't know what happened. I should have kept a better eye on him."

"It's alright, things like that happen I guess."

A distressed whine issues from the Siamese cat, and Yuzuriha begins to sway the cat to and fro like one would a baby.

"Shhh," she hushes gently, "What's the matter with you, Inuki?"

As they turn down the next corridor, Inuki begins to meow loudly, pawing at Yuzuriha's arms.

"Maybe he's—" Kurogane stops mid-sentence, taking another whiff of the air, "Is that…?"

Yuzuriha suddenly stiffens, and tilts her face to the air as well, breathing in as well. Inuki whimpers, and finally begins to yowl.

_"Smoke!" _they both yell in unison.

Kurogane immediately takes off through the corridors, following the smell of smoke. Kamui, Sorata, Yamazaki, Chiharu… What had happened to them? Was this a false alarm? Or had the murderer _really _managed to sneak right past them? How? _How could this have happened?! _The smoke gets thicker and thicker, and the next corner he turns, he finds himself charging into dense smog. He retreats a little, takes a deep breath of cleaner air (like a diver before taking the plunge) and then charges onward.

"Kurogane-san?!" Yuzuriha calls frantically from behind, "Wait! Don't run into the fire!"

Honestly! That girl needed to take her own advice and _not _follow him! Did she think she was invincible or something?! He nearly misses the next turn in the fog. Ahead, he can see the flicker of flames casting dancing shadows on the wall outside of the wall. Yuzuriha's voice follows him from behind, and Kurogane is amazed that she hadn't gotten herself lost in the smoke yet. Kids, he thinks vaguely to himself as he charges straight for the flames at the end of the corridor, they're fucking _fit. _Why isn't she even out of breath?

_"Kurogane-san! Don't go there!"_

The flick of a black coat catches his eye through the smoke, and Kurogane stiffens. Dropping into a defensive stance, he turns slowly in a full circle, but he can't see anything in the smoke. Calming himself, he closes his eyes, and focuses on his surroundings. There is movement from behind—Yuzuriha, turning into the corridor. He tunes her out and focuses.

_There!_

He lunges to his left and grabs on to the very ends of the murderer's clothing. Immediately, the assailant retaliates with a high-kick to Kurogane's face. Reacting instinctively to the movement, not the sight, Kurogane grabs the murderer by the ankle, and yanks. Far from losing balance, the person simply jumps up, and swings the other leg off the floor, and into Kurogane's stomach. With a grunt, Kurogane lets go of the man's (?) foot, and jumps back as the assailant immediately drops down into a sweeping kick. Sensing a fast movement coming towards him, he sidesteps and grabs hold of the appendage by his cheek. A slim wrist. He pulls, twisting the arm as he does so, so that the man has no choice but to turn, or break his arm. He feels a firm back against his chest, but before he can bring his other arm up to immobilize the murderer, the man brings an elbow roughly back into his ribs and springs away as Kurogane's grip loosens.

"Kurogane-san?"

_Yuzuriha!_

"Kid! Get the _fuck _out of here!"

"What?"

He opens his eyes, and sees again that flicker of black cloth.

_"Run!" _he roars, starting forward.

A scream.

Kurogane stops. Through the smoke, he can make out a figure completely in black—black gloves, black coat, black shoes, black pants, black executioner's hood with holes for eyes that he cannot see the color of—and the glint of a knife at Yuzuriha's neck. In her arms, the Siamese cat is frightfully silent, probably fully aware of the danger its owner was in. The murderer takes a step backwards, and presses the knife threateningly to Yuzuriha's skin as Kurogane attempts to follow him. The knife does not break the skin, but Yuzuriha stiffens. The murderer squeezes her arm, a mocking gesture of comfort.

"Don't worry, my dear," comes a distorted voice from within the hood, "If he doesn't come closer, you'll definitely get out of this alive."

Yuzuriha doesn't reply, even as she is pulled back along with the hooded man. Kurogane stands helplessly still, teeth bared in a snarl half of frustration, half of fear. The roar of flames is loud from the room, and the murderer slowly backs away, gradually disappearing into the smoke. The last thing he sees of him is the black-clad arm around Yuzuriha, and the girl's pale face through the haze; he cannot see the expression on her face. A moment, later, Yuzuriha cries out.

Kurogane rushes forward with a roar of fury, but Yuzuriha comes stumbling out of the smoke, straight into him. The clatter of running footsteps fades away into the distance, eventually swallowed up by the increasingly loud crackling of flames. Yuzuriha restrains him as he makes to run after the murderer.

"The officers!" she cries with only the barest of tremors in her voice, sounding amazingly collected for a little girl who'd just had her life threatened, "They're still in the ward!"

With an angry curse, Kurogane tears himself away from the fleeing murderer, and forces himself into the burning ward instead. Inuki darts along the floor, overtaking him. Yuzuriha follows closely behind him as he darts into the room. The smoke is beginning to burn in his lungs, and judging from the stifled coughing coming from behind him, he knows it must be the same for the girl. He drops to his knees and breathes through his shirt for a moment (_Remember, Youou, _his mother's calm voice tells him, _smoke always floats upwards) _before he stands and grabs onto the first person he can get his hands on. From the weight, it must be Chiharu.

"Oi, kid!" he yells over his shoulder, "Get her out of here!"

He shoves the officer into Yuzuriha's arms, and turns around. Through the smoke, he can see something moving towards him across the floor, and drops again into a defensive stance. A moment later, he recognizes the black-and-white fur and the pale face lolling across the floor. It is Inuki, dragging Kamui away from the spreading flames. He starts forward to relieve the large cat of its burden. Yuzuriha _screams _as a flaming beam crumbles beside them, bringing part of the ceiling down with it.

_The roof was coming down on them._

"Follow me, please!" cries one of the staff from upstairs—her voice is familiar, but he cannot for the life of him place just _who _it is, "We need to evacuate the building!"

Deciding that Inuki was managing well enough with Kamui's not quite substantial weight, Kurogane gropes through the smog until he finds a thin wrist. _Yamazaki. _He heaves the boy over his shoulder, and continues to search blindly until he finds Sorata. The man is much heavier than Yamazaki, and after a failed attempt to heave him over his other shoulder, Kurogane pulls a limp arm around his shoulders instead, and begins to drag the man out of the room.

"This way!" Yuzuriha cries, dragging Chiharu along with her. Kurogane really has no idea which way is out, so he just follows her.

"Please!" cries that familiar voice again, "We need to evacuate! Follow me, keep close!"

Yuzuriha turns and begins to follow the voice.

"This way! Are you alright, sir?" comes the voice again, "It's only a little further. Please don't give up!"

Kurogane really, _really, _can't place a face to the voice.

"The entrance is right over there! Keep close. Is everyone still with me?"

True enough, just past Yuzuriha's deceptively small frame, he can see the glass door leading to the reception and beyond it, the night sky outside the front doors. He bounces Yamazaki once on his shoulder so as to get a better grip on the boy, and continues to drag the unconscious Sorata along with him as he staggers into the front lobby. Through the front doors thrown wide open, he can see Yuzuriha's shadow speaking to another formless person as she lowers Chiharu to the grass. After a moment, they both sprint back in.

"Yuzuriha-chan, take the left! I'll evacuate the patients on this side."

The woman sprints back into the building through the door on the other side of the counter, and Yuzuriha squeezes past him to get to the door he'd just come through.

"Kurogane-san!" she yells over her shoulder, "Call the fire brigade! I'm going back in!"

Exasperated, Kurogane turns around.

"You will do no such thing!" he bellows, "Get your fucking ass back here, kid! You'll get killed!"

He drags the officers out and dumps them on the grass, digging for the radio as he runs back in after the _fucking idiotic girl. _Did idiocy run in the workplace or something?! Fai owed him big-time for the amount of fucking trouble his fucking favor was giving him!

"Get. Reinforcements. Lumen is burning down!"

_Chhh. Badge number?_

"I'm Officer Kurogane fucking Suwa! Call the fire brigade and tell them to get their fucking trucks down here!"

_Location? Chhh. Can you—Is that Officer Suwa?! Give me that! Hello?! Hello?! Kurogane-san, this is Watanuki. What's going on!? Chhh._

This is a model example of how _exactly _a conversation over the radio should _not _go. Protocol thrown out of the window, Kurogane drops all formalities.

"Oi, Watanuki! The institute is on fire! Can you call reinforcements to evacuate the patients?! And we need to put the fire out!"

_The institute is on fire?! What happened?! You people were supposed to—_

_"Never mind that!" _Kurogane roars (he vaguely thinks that if this conversation were ever recorded, it would be used to train greens how _not _to speak over the radio), "Get the fucking reinforcements here! I fought with the murderer just now. He could still be in the building!"

_Where are you now? Chhh. Are you still in the complex?_

"Yeah, I am. I'm looking for—"

_What the hell are you still doing there!? Chhh. Go home! Go home now!_

"What the _fuck _do you mean _go home!? _This place is coming down and you want me to _go home!?"_

_We'll bring in reinforcements! You need to check on Fai-san! Go! Chhhhh._

"That's not fucking important! I need to be—"

_It is of utmost importance, buffoon! Don't you see? Chhh. He's a scapegoat! If they can't find the murderer then Fai is going to die! Chhhhhh. If there's any evidence to suggest his guilt, they're going to gobble him right up!_

Kurogane stops, looking longingly off into the smoke.

"Follow me! Don't wander off, stupid! This way, this way!" comes Yuzuriha's voice from a distance.

_Kurogane-san, you need to go back now!_

"Fine!" he yells, "Just… get the fucking reinforcements! If the murderer escapes its none of my fucking business!"

"This way, this way!"

"Please sir, follow me. We need to evacuate—"

Kurogane tunes out the voices of the staff members, turning around and running for the exit. Like a coward.

* * *

He takes the stairs three at a time, and eventually emerges on his floor. Souhi sits right in the middle of the corridor, as if waiting for him.

"Meow."

"Hey," he greets shortly, and attempts to step around her.

_"Meoooww," _she purrs, tangling swiftly around his legs, "_Prrrrr…"_

Kurogane tries to step out of her winding body, but only stumbling when she rubs against his calves.

"Stop it, Souhi," he chides, "I'm in a hurry."

"Mraaaoww."

He is reminded again of how large a cat Souhi is as she stands up on her hind legs. Kurogane is already an abnormally tall guy, but Souhi is tall enough to place her paws on his lower abdomen. She loses her balance and falls to the floor, and Kurogane tries to walk around her again.

"Reaoow!"

She launches herself at him again, pawing at the front of his coat. The sound of rustling plastic echoes through the corridor. _The food._

"I'll give it to you later. Get off!"

"Prrrr…"

With a snarl, Kurogane scoops her up into his arms (she is _heavy!)_and continues to sprint down the corridor, ignoring her indignant yowls. Souhi is a troublesome burden in his arms as he attempts to get his keys out, purring and pawing at his chest.

_"Souhi!" _he snaps, "Down!"

The lock clicks once, twice. Kurogane throws the door open. The living room is empty. _Fai. _Was he really…?

_"Ku—Kuro?"_

The door swings closed behind him. Souhi winds around his legs once more. In the quiet darkness of his apartment, he can hear unsteady breathing coming from the couch. The blonde hair that tumbles over the side of the couch glimmers in the dark like a silvery lamp. Kurogane drops the treats onto the floor, and Souhi immediately begins to crunch them down. Cautiously, he creeps closer to the sofa.

_(the shine of the murderer's knife is still a vivid memory in his mind)_

Fai sits up, and squints at him through the darkness. His hair is messy around his pale, drawn face and he is wearing his beige coat and woolen socks. Kurogane is immediately suspicious. He stops a distance away from the blonde, and folds his arms.

"Did you go somewhere?" he asks as casually as he can, "Just got home?"

Fai stands, and stumbles forward. Kurogane stiffens defensively as Fai comes towards him, but the blonde does nothing but press deliriously into him. Instinctively, he brings his arms up to stop the man from sliding to the ground. Fai's hands are cold and sweaty, and his ribcage expands rapidly with every harsh breath.

"I'm cold," he slurs, "It hurts."

"What does?" Kurogane asks coldly.

"Stomach," Fai groans, and Kurogane hefts him up as thin legs give, "I know you told me not to… but I… I ate the takeaway. I was hungry but I was too afraid to go out, so..."

Suddenly, a tide of guilt washes over him, sweeping away all suspicion and aggression he might have felt towards the blonde. It had been _his _stupid loss of temper, _his _stupid pettiness, that had caused this. He pulls Fai's arm over his shoulder, but Fai only groans.

"Kuro has… bony hipbones," he gasps, "It's digging into my stomach."

With a sigh, he bends slightly, and slides one arm under the back of Fai's thighs. Grunting, he lifts Fai up with one arm, like he were carrying a baby. Fai's head lolls onto his shoulder.

"Kuro is so strong," he murmurs.

"Shut up."

Kurogane refrains from simply tossing Fai down onto the bed, and instead lays him down gently. To his surprise, Fai makes a noise of protest and attempts to sit up.

"No…"

Kurogane sighs and pushes him down.

"Go to sleep, moron."

"No!"

He lets Fai up.

"What's the matter with you?"

"I'm not going to hijack the bed."

"It's fine."

"It's _not. _It's Kuro-chiot's bed so he has to sleep in it."

Kurogane walks over to the other side of the bed and plops himself down heavily.

"I'll sleep on this side."

Fai frowns.

"Then shower first," he commands, "You're sweaty. Didn't you drive?"

_No. _Because he'd kinda been angry at Fai. And so he hadn't wanted to take Fai's car.

"No."

"So you walked back?"

"I ran."

Fai makes a face.

"Go and shower."

He sighs and leaves Fai sitting on the bed, looking strangely small in his big, beige coat, and brings his sleeping pants into the bathroom with him. He showers as quickly as he can, and dumps his clothes into the laundry basket before coming out, toweling his hair dry. Fai is curled up at the foot of the bed, like a pet. He has changed into a long-sleeved pajamas shirt and pants. With blue, blue eyes, he scans once over the tanned skin of Kurogane's chest as he approaches.

"Don't sleep there," Kurogane says, "You're not a dog."

Kurogane drags him up the bed, until he is lying properly on the pillows. He grasps the sheet in his hands and tugs it out from underneath Fai's form. Fai gasps as he is yanked towards the edge of the bed by the blanket. Ignoring him, Kurogane lays the blanket over the man's lithe frame. Fai looks up at him for a moment with a strange little half-smile on his face, then reaches out. Kurogane stiffens at the feel of cold fingertips against his chest, but does not move away.

"Kuro-loup is so kind. So brave. So heroic…"

He catches hold of Fai's hand, and tucks it under the blanket.

"You're delirious," he says flatly.

"I don't know if you're brave," Fai murmurs sleepily as Kurogane walks quietly over to the other side of the bed, "Or if you're foolish. For always running right into the flames."

Kurogane stiffens and turns around from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed. The stretch of window on the other side of the room lights the very edges of Fai's form like a neon thread. The blonde's ribs expand and contract with every breath. In. Out. In. Out.

"The city is burning," Fai whispers.

On the very edge of the lights that spreads all around them, Kurogane can see the glow of the fire he'd left behind. It is merely an expression of how bad the situation is, that the sight of the rising smoke and the towering flames has become a familiar sight amongst the city of lights. He picks up the remote from the nightstand, and with a quiet _beep _the curtains begin to close on hell.

* * *

**A/N: How. Did I manage to write 12,000 words for this chapter. I think outlines really do force me to write longer chapters since they will be a certain number of things I HAVE to cover in a single chapter. Anyway, Hideki and Chii are from Chobits, and are CLAMP soulmates! Yuzuriha, Inuki, Kamui, and Sorata are from X1999. Chiharu and Yamazaki are from CCS. Toshihiko and Sayaka are from Kobato. And Yuki Mihara... ^u^ You'll have to read the next chapter. Here are translations for the French sentences:**

**(1) Welcome back, my love. I forgot to ask but... Will you marry me?  
(2) Let's make love. I want your babies.  
(3) Kuro-sex. I want your dick. Fuck me.  
**

**(4) A special gift for my beloved kitten.**

**Anyway, please do leave a review! Reviews really inspire me to write because I know that there are people reading this.  
**


	8. The Murder of Burugaru

**Summary: Kurogane teaches Fai a lesson, and finds something of his that Fai doesn't want him seeing. More mysteries surround the blonde than Kurogane can unravel. During the midnight hours, a murder takes place at the mental institute.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: This chapter is even freaking longer than the last!**

* * *

Quite disconcertingly, the first thing Kurogane sees when he opens his eyes the next morning is Fai. More accurately, Fai's blue, blue eyes like the summer sky, watching his face intently. Those eyes widen just slightly as they meet his, and then they snap closed. The faintest of rosy blushes dusts across Fai's cheeks as he pretends, quite redundantly, to be asleep. Fai is lying on the other side of the bed, so close that their bent knees are pressing up against one another. A moment later, as if realizing the redundancy of his actions, those eyes open again and Fai grins widely at him.

"Kuro-drowsy has such a cute sleeping face," he teases somewhat breathlessly. Kurogane blinks dazedly; he's too soon out of his dreams to register the words.

"How are you feeling?

Fai shrugs against the pillow. Kurogane notices for the first time that there is somewhat of a fond twinkle in those blue eyes. That those eyes crinkle and that he dimples ever so slightly on his left cheek when he smiles like that. It is a reserved smile, a quiet little thing that Kurogane wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been lying so close to the blonde. He wonders what Fai would look like smiling fully—perhaps he'd have a dimple on the other side as well. Fai's tongue flicks out, licking over dry lips.

"Better," he answers.

Kurogane grins in response, then turns over and stretches languidly.

"That's good," he half-yawns-half-says, before looking at Fai again, "Good morning."

The greeting is a little late, he knows. Fai chuckles in a way strangely exasperated, but he smiles back nevertheless.

"Good morning."

Kurogane lies there for a moment more as his brain restores itself in little bits and pieces. Fai watches him with a strange look on his face. Finally, his 'brain restoration' meter reaches a level that enables a strange thought to occur to him. Immediately, he springs out of bed, face hot.

"I'm going to make breakfast!" he announces, and then flees the room. Because that conversation had been… strangely intimate. Fond smiles and caring words… in bed? Kurogane opens his kitchen cabinets, and sets about making more noise than breakfast, to drown out his embarrassment. Because they had been acting like a married couple, and Fai's teasing was _not _funny. The eggs in his frying pan hiss demonically over the sounds of clanging pots, pans, and cutlery. Scrambled eggs are easy, and he is done soon enough. He flips breakfast onto a large plate, and turns around to place it on the table and shout at Fai to get out of the bathroom and stop hogging it like a girl, breakfast is ready.

Fai is crouched on the opposite side of the living room, morning light cascading down on him as he hunches over his suitcase. A flash of familiar worn leather startles Kurogane and reminds him sharply of the mystery woman he'd seen in that wallet. Who was she? How was she related to Fai? Mother? Sibling? Cousin? Lover?

_Wife?_

Not an impossibility, Kurogane realizes with a sickening jolt. He'd forgotten. Fai was 32. And suddenly, that childish, whimsical, _idiotic _man seemed so old to Kurogane. The man's appearance and his behavior always made Kurogane underestimate him in both age and ability. He'd remind himself of course, don't underestimate him again. But then with a little nickname here, a little taunt there, it'd be blown right out of his head once more.

The loud _ziippp! _of Fai closing his suitcase startles Kurogane from his thoughts.

"Breakfast is ready," he says quickly, before Fai can turn around and see him staring. With impeccable timing, the coffee-maker beeps once, signaling that the coffee is done. As Fai drags his suitcase into the bedroom, (no use leaving it out here if he's gonna be sleeping in there) Kurogane spins around and snatches two mugs from the drying rack, filling one with the dark liquid. As he reaches for the other, slim fingers snag the mug from his grip.

"Ah ah~" Fai sing-songs teasingly as he sidles up beside Kurogane, butting him out of the way with a swing of his hips, "I do insist that I have my morning coffee in my _favorite _mug."

The sound of liquid hitting porcelain is all he hears from the blonde for a few seconds more, before Fai puts the coffee pot back down, and lifts the mug up to eye level.

"Cheers," he murmurs cheekily as he takes a sip. A black puppy is imprinted on it's surface. As Kurogane reaches out to grab the mug, Fai steps around him, pats him on the arm, and then walks around the kitchen island to seat himself at the table, "The omelets look good, Kuro-chef."

They sit down together for breakfast. Fai all but shovels the food down, and then runs to the bathroom before Kurogane can. Kurogane rolls his eyes, sighing as he picks an office shirt from his wardrobe. As the shower starts, Fai's voice reaches him through the bathroom door, muffled.

"You got to shower last night! I didn't!"

Kurogane ignores Fai's flawed reasoning.

"Hurry up!" he yells, "I have to go to work!"

On second thought:

"Don't use up all the hot water!"

He knows that it's futile. He will get only cold water. With a sigh, Kurogane throws his change of clothes over his bed (once upon a time, his mother would have made him pick it back up and fold it nicely) and goes outside to throw the dishes into the sink. He briefly wonders if he ought to clean up now, or wait till later, then decides that he'd make Fai do it. The shower turns off in the bathroom, and he can hear the door creak slowly open. He expects Fai to come bouncing out, but all that reaches him is a tentative call.

"Kuro?"

"What?"

A pause.

"I forgot to bring a towel in."

Kurogane sighs.

"I suppose you want me to bring one in?"

The silence is answer enough. He washes his hands and goes to get a towel from Fai's luggage, but the lock over the zips are a sure deterrent.

"Oi!" he calls over his shoulder, "Your luggage is locked! What's the code?"

"Then give me one of yours! I'll wash it after, okay?"

With another sigh, he heads into his bedroom. The bathroom door is ajar. Fai _meeps _when he catches sight of him, and closes the door until Kurogane can see only a single blue eye. Ignoring him, Kurogane picks a random towel from the top shelf of his wardrobe—it is a deep navy blue that matches Fai's eyes. That single blue eye watches him as he thrusts the towel towards the bathroom door. Slowly, the door creaks a little more open.

"Hurry up," Kurogane says flatly, "I haven't got all day."

A moment more of hesitation, then an arm shoots out and snatches the towel from him. It is only a moment, but that moment is enough for Kurogane to see it.

"Thank you," Fai mutters.

The door slams shut. The door before his eyes is a smooth mahogany surface, but the burn scars carved into the back of his eyelids is a discolored expanse of wrinkles. A few moments later, the door swings opens again, almost hitting Kurogane.

"Oi!" he yells, "Watch it!"

"Kuro-chiot shouldn't be standing outside the door in the first place."

Ignoring the blonde, he snatches his clothes from the bed (a sock flutters to the floor, and that is why he shouldn't just throw his clothes over the bed) and turns around to see Fai wrapping the towel around his hair.

"Don't wear the towel like that," Kurogane says flatly as he rushes past Fai, into the bathroom, "It'll probably dry faster without."

He slams the door shut.

_(True enough, the water that rains down on him even with the tap turned all the way to the left is icy cold.)_

When he comes out, Fai is sprawled on the couch with the television turned on. Some asian chicks dance on the screen, blasting some asian-pop song in a language he can't understand. Whatever it is, it isn't Japanese. The towel is still wrapped around Fai's head. Kurogane sighs, buttoning his shirt up. He doesn't understand Fai's strange stubborn-ness.

"I'm going to work," he announces. Fai nods. He double-locks the door behind him, and heads for the lift.

* * *

_Caldina._

The search turns up with no results on the database. Not that Kurogane hadn't been expecting that. He can hear rain pattering down outside. The interior of the office is just a little chillier than usual. He opens up his internet browser, and repeats the search. There are results this time.

_Pictures of cars._

_Toyota Caldina, _reads wikipedia, reads the blogposts, reads the newspaper articles. He is rather unamused as he closes the browser. But he can't really say that he'd been expecting anything much from that search either. With a sigh, he sits back and cracks his knuckles. Not expecting to find anything didn't make anything better.

Who was 'Caldina'? Why had she attacked them at Clover? More importantly, _who had been her target? _Common sense would say that she had been targeting him, as a police officer. Perhaps a message from the killer: _mind your own business. _But she clearly hadn't minded flashing her daggers at Fai. Of course, that could have been because he was in the way, but there was still a possibility. So why then? Why would anyone want to kill _Fai?_

The door creaks open, and Kurogane leaps to his feet, on guard. Tomoyo blinks innocently at him from the doorway, and Kurogane relaxes. _Ridiculous, _he chides himself, _did you think she'd come all the way here to attack you again?_

"Kurogane?" Tomoyo calls, sounding concerned as she walks in, "Are you feeling alright? You seem… tense."

Kurogane shrugs.

"It's nothing."

His cousin still looks doubtful as she sets a mug of steaming coffee on his desk. The hot drink is a welcome luxury on such a cold, downcast day.

"Submit your report quickly. Yuuko-san wants to see you in HQ at ten," she tells him, and then presses the back of her hand to his forehead. Kurogane blinks as she presses her free hand to her own, "No fever. Are you sure you're okay? You need to take care of yourself. The rainy season is coming and if you don't, you'll catch a cold."

Kurogane flushes, and scowls to cover up his embarrassment. Teasing he can deal with anger, but this…._this—_this he has no idea how to respond to.

"Where's Syaoran?" he demands instead.

Tomoyo looks at him with an exasperated shake of her head.

"Mouuu…" she sighs, "You'd think he'd be gladder to see his own cousin."

The heat in his cheeks grow stronger. Okay, so maybe he should have expressed a little more gratitude for her concern. But Tomoyo only smiles knowingly at him with the strange indulgent expression of an elder sister towards her kid brother. Kurogane cannot help but feel ruffled at that look. She looks like she would ruffle his hair if she didn't know he'd take offense at being treated like a kid. Even worse, she looks like she's _refraining _from ruffling his hair because she's _humoring _him, like an adult humoring a child insisting that he was an adult. Kurogane feels the protest swell up in his chest, bubbling up through his throat and resting right on the tip of his tongue—

"He took half-day leave."

What? Who?

_"Hah?"_

Tomoyo sighs.

"Syaoran," she explains, "He took half-day leave. He's gone to Sakura's workplace to help out. Said that all the burly guys had gone out yesterday to help move some stuff somewhere or something like that. Making some sort of delivery, he said. So the girls are all alone in the cafe."

At the confused look on her cousin's face, she raises an eyebrow.

"You really didn't know?" she asked, "Syaoran said Fai begged him to."

Suddenly, her face lit up, and she checked over her shoulder before she leaned over the table conspiratorially.

"Ne, ne, what do you think of Sakura?" she whispered to him, "Kawaii! Ne?"

As Tomoyo giggles, Kurogane sighs and pinches his nose-bridge. First Syaoran, and now Tomoyo. What's up with everyone and _girls. _He remembers with a cringe, Syaoran's puppy-eyed expression as he trailed after the girl. _Never, _he swears vehemently, I will _never _sink that far for a woman.

Tomoyo straightens up, eyes twinkling as she brushes fond fingers over his cheekbone.

"Call Oba-chan, okay?" she nags, "She says you haven't called her in _days. _She's worried that you've not been eating properly without her to supervise you. _Have _you been eating properly? Or—don't tell me… Have you burnt your entire apartment building down?"

His mother's little spy.

Kurogane sweeps her hand away before she can feel the heat in his cheeks, though he supposes she'd be able to _see _it. He straightens the straightened stack of papers at the corner of his desk.

"Alright, alright," he grumbles, "I'll call her okay? What's up with you? You're being very… maternal."

Tomoyo sighs as she withdraws her hand and places them on her hips.

"Who else is there to take care of you?" she demands, "Oba-chan would fret herself into a heart-attack if I wasn't here to take care of her baby Youou."

"Oi, oi!" Kurogane exclaims complainingly, "I'm 25!"

Tomoyo tweaks his nose and flees.

"Still my baby cousin!" she calls over her shoulder, and slams the door shut before he can come after her.

"You're younger than me!" he yells in response to her shrill giggling. He looks down at his screen. Then up at the door. Then back at the screen. He sighs as he digs his phone out.

_Call Hahaue, _he adds a reminder to himself, _when you get home._

He sets the alarm to ring in two hours; he ought to have been long home by then, in order to feed his hungry little house-guest. Feeling mightily satisfied with himself, Kurogane stashes his phone back into his back pocket. He stares at his hands for a moment. What _had_ he been doing before Tomoyo had interrupted him?

In the search-bar, _Caldina _stands out to him when he looks back up at his screen. Abruptly, the worries and doubts come flooding back in. _Caldina, Caldina, Caldina. _What did she want? _Who _did she want? And why? All this would be a lot easier if Fai weren't so goddamned _mysterious. _He was the kind of person who chattered and flitted and laughed and made you feel like you knew him pretty well as a friend, _without _saying anything about himself. He left people feeling like they were a whole lot closer, without revealing anything about who he was under all that laughter.

Kurogane wasn't fooled.

His fingers twitch over the keyboard. He can of course. He can simply browse through Fai's history in the database. He's a citizen after all, and all his records will be in there, nothing missing. Everything about him, all his mysteries and secrets, would be laid bare on that screen. His family, where he went to school, where he went to work, his childhood. _That woman._ With a single finger, he slowly types out those three letters. _F…A…I…._

_Fai._

An irrational guilt binds him, and for a moment he is frozen in place, index finger resting on the _enter _key. It is _ridiculous. _He has no reason to feel guilty. This is his job. Fai is a suspect. Simple as that. He's done this so many times before. Victims of murders, suspects, family of involved parties…. Why is Fai different? Why was he different from all those people?

_Because I know him, _Kurogane realizes. And then mentally slaps himself. Hadn't he just been thinking that Fai had that certain way of making people feel they knew him, when he may as well have been a stranger? But there was a difference. Kurogane had seen him angry, had seen him grieving, had seen him scared. He'd seen his scars and his face relaxed from his wide, painted smile into peaceful sleep. He knows Fai's stupid little habits; the way he used up all the hot water in the mornings, the way he always wore long sleeves to cover up his scars, the way he always wrapped his hair up in that _stupid _turban after coming out from the shower. He knows Fai as a person, not as a goddamned photo on yet another one of those bloody reports on his desk. Even if Fai was as good as a stranger, it was meeting him in person that made all the difference.

_Just press the damn button._

With conscious effort, he presses down on the enter key. A moment later, a list extends across the screen. Fai is the first on that list. Aged 32, degree in criminal forensics. He's adopted—is the first thing Kurogane notices from the picture of his father. Abruptly, the guilt is back full-force, but he forces himself onward. Fai has no relatives, only a foster father named Ashura Flourite. Kurogane frowns at the name. _Ashura Flourite. _It is vaguely familiar. From there, he links to the man's profile.

Ashura Flourite is a polished looking man with long black hair, tawny eyes, regal smile. A pale and kindly elegant man who looks nothing like a man in his early fifties. He looks thirty. He looks Japanese. He looks _nothing_ like Fai. In fact, they are pretty much of completely different ethnicities. So why then… why were they listed as _biological relatives. _Ashura had married once and married young, to an Indian woman named Shashi—the daughter of a successful firm. There is a wicked beauty to the curve of her rogue lips, and a cruel glint to her dark eyes. She had died in a car accident a few years after they had married, (Fai had been three) and was listed as Fai's biological mother. Kurogane scans across her face, and then goes back to Ashura's profile.

One Japanese father and one Indian mother could never birth a blonde child, even with all the technology in the world.

_Ashura Flourite. _He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. _Ashura Flourite. Why was that name so familiar? _He rocks forward again, opening up his internet browser once more. _Ashura Flourite, _he types into the search engine.

And is _stunned _that he actually gets relevant results.

_Ashura Flourite, Ashura Flourite, Ashura Flourite. _In the 'Images' tab, the photos of him stretch on and on. He scrolls down at random, so quickly that it is not possible for him to focus on any one picture. Smiling, solemn, Paris, Japan. Here, in the city. A few, rare times, a shock of yellow. He is not famous enough that there is a wikipedia article on him, but there are articles in French, in English, even scarce few in _Japanese. Businessman marries heir to Indian firm—love? or money?_

Kurogane rocks abruptly back in his seat.

_Ashura Flourite._

Ashura Flourite—one of the richest men in the city. Born and raised in the well-to-do areas of _this _side of the city. He had inherited his parent's business running small bed-and-breakfasts in rural areas of France (his father was European… explained the strange surname), and had quickly nurtured it into a largely successful chain of hotels. He owned at least six five star hotels in Paris, and had more scattered across the rest of the country. One of the articles announces the businessman's decision to attempt to spread his business into this city as well but as far as Kurogane knows, Ashura has yet to open any hotels in the city.

Kurogane goes back to the 'Images' tab, and carefully scrolls down until he sees it. A small blonde child clings to the hem of the businessman's shirt, hiding from the cameras. Strangely enough, they are at an _ice-cream parlor. _(Of all places!) Ashura shields the boy from the photographers with one arm, face turned to frown disapprovingly in the general direction of the screen. _Paparazzi._

_Illegitimate child? Or an adopted son? _reads the caption. The link leads Kurogane to a tabloid website based in the city itself. The writers claim that Ashura had called his bodyguard on them. But looking at the frightened look in those large blue eyes, Kurogane cannot say that he blames the man. True enough, in the the rare photos of Ashura (and the even rarer photos of Fai) on the site, a fierce silvery-haired man regularly makes his appearance. In a couple, he even appears to be beating off people with cameras. Kurogane can sort of see why there are so little tabloid articles, and why the number of articles had dwindled to zero by the time Fai appears any older than eight.

Clicking on the search-box, Kurogane keys in _Fai D. Flourite, _and taps the enter key once more. No relevant images show up, and the only articles he sees are Fai's professional particulars on several websites. It seems like Ashura had mostly succeeded in keeping his name private and out of the press.

Tomoyo pokes her head into the office. Kurogane all but jumps out of his skin, and guiltily closes the browser. His cousin's violet eyes narrow slightly, but she does not comment on his jumpiness.

"You have to leave for HQ now," she tells him, "Or you're going to be late. Have you submitted your report?"

Kurogane glances at the time, and curses. He hurriedly shuts the computer down, and shovels all the papers on his desk into a drawer, locking it. Tomoyo shakes her head, sighing as he runs right past her.

"Honestly," she mutters, "What would you do without anyone to take care of you?"

Kurogane rolls his eyes, and slams the doors in her face.

* * *

They are all seated by the time he reaches HQ; Yuuko at the head of the table, Watanuki behind her, and the rest of the officers who had been on shift with Kurogane lining the table on either side of her. He is not—thankfully, because Yuuko would do something if he were—late. They are still chatting about unrelated things as they wait for him to arrive. He settles down beside Yamazaki, in the process of telling another far-fetched story, and opposite a perpetually-disgruntled Kamui. The clock on the wall above him tells Kurogane that he is five minutes early.

"I suppose we could start early," Yuuko giggles, before she turns abruptly solemn. The laughter and chattering dies down as she straightens the papers in front of her and scans through the one on top, "Yamazaki and Subaru reported feeling dazed and disorientated. Chiharu mentioned feeling drowsy before passing out. Sorata said he felt 'drunk'. _Officer _Kamui Shirou… wrote 'we fell asleep and the guy got through'."

Kamui scowls, turning his face away. Kurogane thinks that he looked rather ashamed.

"Officer Suwa, on the other hand," Yuuko continues sharply, and Kurogane winces, "Has not submitted his report."

She leans forward, resting her chin delicately over entwined fingers.

"Tell us, Officer Suwa," she says pleasantly, eyes gleaming sharply, "Why you fell asleep."

Kurogane frowned.

"I didn't," he tells them, "I didn't feel dizzy or disorientated or drowsy or anything. That's why I was able to drag you people out of the building."

_"What?"_

"That can't be…"

Yuuko holds up a hand, and the officers fall silent.

"Then what was different between Kurogane and the rest?" she asks, "What did you do that the others didn't?"

They thought carefully on her question for a moment.

"He was late," Kamui says finally, blunt as ever.

"He was wearing sneakers," Sorata says after a moment, and everyone groans.

"I was wearing sneakers too," Chiharu protests.

"I stopped to talk to the receptionist," Kurogane says thoughtfully, "So I didn't go in at the same time as you guys."

"I had chicken for dinner!" Sorata informs them, "How about you guys?"

"Fish," Yamazaki responds immediately.

Chiharu promptly smacked him upside the head.

"Don't listen to him," she tells them flatly, "We had beef ramen."

"Eto," Subaru says thoughtfully, "I had pasta with Kamui. How about Kurogane-san?"

_"How is this even related to the matter at hand?!"_

Yuuko holds a hand up again, and the chaos dies down.

"You stopped to talk to the receptionist," she repeats, "Then what happened?"

Violet eyes widen, and Kamui sits forward.

"The drinks!" he cries, "He didn't drink anything we were served!"

"Then the drinks were drugged?" Subaru yelps.

"How did you miss the murderer then?" Kamui suddenly snarls, turning to Kurogane, "You were awake!"

"There was a commotion outside!" Kurogane protests defensively, "I went outside to see what happened, remember?"

Watanuki sighs, speaking for the first time.

"That doesn't matter," he grumbles, "Why hadn't any of the staff stopped a suspicious individual from entering. Heck, why hadn't they _seen _a goddamned suspicious individual?"

"For the same reason I wasn't in the ward," Kurogane tells them frustratedly, "We were all in the medicinal stores!"

Immediately, all conversation stops. The significance of that small little incident suddenly seems magnified.

"What…." Chiharu asks, "What was the commotion about?"

Kurogane blinks, still somewhat dazed.

"It was—" he begins, "It was that _cat. _It got into the cabinets and we were trying to get it _out."_

"Where the _hell _did the cat come from?" Kamui demands incredulously.

"There was that girl in the lobby!" Sorata exclaims, "She had a siamese cat with her! Was that the cat?"

"Yuzuriha," Kurogane says, "Yes, it was her cat."

"Then we have a new suspect," Watanuki says, scribbling something down on that clipboard of his, "Yuzuriha, was it?"

_"No!" _Kurogane says, snapping out of his daze, "She's innocent!"

"You have no basis to be defending her!" Kamui hisses.

"She was with me the whole time," Kurogane insists stubbornly, "She said Inuki was normally well-behaved but something spooked him. She was behind me when I fought with the murderer, and he even took her hostage. Afterwards, she and Inuki helped me to drag you guys out."

"You fought with the murderer?!"

"What did he look like?"

Kurogane blinks, wracking his brain for any distinguishing features.

"Shorter than me." is all he can come up with.

Watanuki snorts.

"There's hardly anyone taller than you," he scoffs.

Everyone erupts into laughter at that, until Yuuko manages to stifle her laughter and bang the table for order. The chatter dies down, and Yuuko clears her throat.

"Call Yuzuriha in as a witness," she decides, "Anything else? Who served the drinks?"

"The receptionist," Subaru offers helpfully.

"Long hair, good figure," Sorata supplies.

"Yu…ki," Kurogane says slowly. Watanuki immediately zeroes in on him.

"Yuki?" he asks, eyes hawklike in his intensity, "Is that her name?"

Kurogane nods.

"Yuki Mihara," he says finally, "I asked her for directions to the ward."

"New suspect," Yuuko says to Watanuki, "Yuki Mihara. Get someone to see if they can get any samples of the drug used."

Kurogane sighs.

"It's probably all cinders now."

Yuuko shrugs.

"We'll just have to try anyway," she turned to her secretary once more, "Did you manage to get the doctor?"

Watanuki nods.

"I think he should be here any moment."

"Go to the lobby and fetch him up, Kurogane," Yuuko responds immediately, and Kurogane bristles.

"Why _me?"_

"Or I can make you do something else ridiculously humiliating for _failing _to hand up your report on time."

Kurogane shuts up and heads for the door.

"Witch," he swears as he wrenches the door open. Doctor Hideki blinks at him, hand outstretched as if he'd been about to open the door from the other side. There's another officer behind him, one that Kurogane doesn't recognize.

"Welcome," Yuuko says, "Please sit down."

Kurogane turns around, somewhat dazed by how quickly the meeting is progressing. From the blank look on the doctor's face, he supposes it must be the same for him. Before the doctor is even seated, the questions are coming at him.

"Number of injuries?" Watanuki asks, bringing his pen to paper, "Death toll? If applicable?"

"Ah, err… one?"

Watanuki gawks at the doctor.

_"One? _Only?_"_

The doctor nods, looking somewhat confused.

"There was this _girl," _he explains, gesturing wildly, "In a french maid costume. I don't know who she was but she helped to evacuate all the patients."

He paused.

"A friend of hers was checked into the ward, but she wasn't mad at all. Just a little slow."

"Security footage?" Watanuki asks, scribbling away on that clipboard of his, "What did the murderer look like? How did he get in? Which way did he come in from?"

"Ah, I don't know."

_"What?_ What did security say?"

The doctor shrugs helplessly.

"We checked the footage," he says, "But…"

"But?" Kurogane prompts.

The doctor shrugs again.

"There was nothing," he sighs, "Nothing at all. Not even a trace. It was as if he'd simply materialized in the ward, set the fire, and disappeared in the smoke."

Kurogane frowns.

"I fought with the murderer," he insists, "Outside the ward."

"There was so much smoke that we couldn't even see _you," _the doctor protests, "Let alone the murderer!"

"Then what about the cameras inside the ward?"

"Damaged by the fire."

"But you must have seen who lit the fire?" Sorata prods.

"Ah… no. There was only static. The cameras were damaged by the fire."

"But how could they have been damaged by the fire if the fire hadn't even started then?" Subaru points out.

The doctor only shrugs helplessly.

"I don't know."

Kurogane is about to question the man some more when Yuuko holds a hand up.

"He doesn't know anything," she says with a sigh, "No use interrogating him. What we _do _have is that the drinks you were served by the receptionist named Yuki Mihara. Doctor, is there such a person working for the hospital?"

Hideki sat up in his seat, eyes wide.

"_That_ receptionist?" he blurts out, "She disappeared in the fire! She was the only casualty!"

Watanuki frowns.

"Body?"

"She _disappeared. _We couldn't find her body so we could only assume that she died. She wasn't there when we did a headcount after the evacuation."

Still scowling, Watanuki scribbles it down before looking up once more.

"That's very suspicious. Should I enter Yuki Mihara as a new suspect?"

Yuuko nods and stands.

"Well then," she says, yawning widely, "Can I assume that the meeting is concluded? I would rather like to have some sake before lunch."

"No," Watanuki says immediately, bristling, "You drink too much, Yuuko-san!"

Ignoring him, Yuuko turns to Kurogane.

"Have the cameras been set up?"

Kurogane frowns.

"No," he answers, "They're coming today to set it up."

Stretching languidly, Yuuko sighs happily as her spine pops and picks her flask up. Kurogane sometimes suspects that she carries not water or coffee in it, but hot sake.

"That's good," she says, and takes a swig from her flask, "That's very good."

The way she drinks from it is also a lot more appropriate for sake than coffee, and with more relish than deserved for water.

"Then," she says, picking up her files (and promptly dumping them in Watanuki's arms), "The meeting is over. Shoo shoo, go home."

Kurogane sighs and gets up, but when he leaves, Watanuki is waiting for him at the door.

"I think it'll be a good idea," he begins quietly, "To take Fai-san to places with lots of people during the midnight hours. Places with receipts, cameras. You know?"

Kurogane blinks at him, but Watanuki is already walking briskly away after Yuuko, as if nothing had happened. He watches the boy's retreating back as the others stream out from around him, thinking over the implications of his words until Kamui hisses at him to get out of the way. Startled, he does so, and Chiharu waves goodbye to him as she heads for the lift lobby right behind Yamazaki.

"Coming?" calls Sorata, holding the lift open. Kurogane rushes in, and the door closes behind him. Sorata jabs the button for ground level.

"Basement," Kurogane grunts, "Carpark."

"You bought a car, Kurogane-san?" Subaru asks politely, "When?"

Kurogane shakes his head.

"My housemate's car," he explains, "Rich asshole doesn't know how to drive his own car."

"Lucky bastard," Sorata sighs, "Me and my honey have been saving for so long and we can't even afford an apartment of our own yet! I don't think we'll ever be able to start a family."

A loud _ding! _sounds before the doors open on the ground floor. Kurogane nods in goodbye as the other officers stream out of the lift, waving goodbye to him. The lift doors close again, and a moment later he feels that little lurch in his stomach that tells him that the lift is moving. A second _ding! _rings out seconds later, and the doors open once more, this time to hot air and dim lighting. Sighing, he begins to head for where he _thinks _he left the car. He finds it eventually, wincing at the terrible screeching of tires over the polished floor. Unlocking the door, he gets in and slams the door behind him, starts up the engine.

_I think it would be a good idea… to take Fai-san to places with lots of people during the midnight hours._

He backs slowly out of the lot; there isn't anyone else in the carpark. Even through the window panes, he can hear the horrendous screech the tires make when he turns. The OUT sign is painted on the wall.

_Places with receipts, cameras. You know?_

In case things got out of hand, he supposes. In case they couldn't find the murderer. In case they needed a convenient person to blame it all on. After all, the citizens would begin to question if the authorities took too long to find the real culprit. In such a case, they would probably get Kurogane to _lie, _to damn Fai to the death row. And if he refused, they could probably silence him, and get an impostor to play his part.

Fai was a _safety net._

* * *

"Kurogane-san."

With an almost imperceptible exhale, Kurogane tears his eyes away from the computer screen. Syaoran is standing at the doorway with a mug (thankfully un-patterned now that he's taken _that _mug away) of steaming coffee. Kurogane waves him over, then turns his attention back to the report he has to complete. Vaguely, he registers Syaoran setting the mug carefully down on his desk. And then just _standing there. _Assuming he's merely watching him work, Kurogane ignores him for a few minutes before the itch of amber eyes on the back of his neck makes him turn about irritably.

"What?" he bites out sharply, "I can feel you staring. Spit it out."

Syaoran raises his hands placatingly and somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry," he apologizes hastily, "I wanted to ask you if you could pass a message to Fai."

Kurogane cocks an eyebrow, and the boy continues on in a rush.

"Tell him that some visitors were looking for him this morning—ah, at the cafe that is—but I took care of them."

Another one of those suspicious messages then, Kurogane thinks with a sigh.

"Noted."

Syaoran exhales, then smiles.

"How was patrol?" he asks, gathering the cluttered files up from Kurogane's desk and beginning to sort them by alphabetical order.

"The guy died anyway," Kurogane says flatly, fingers click-clacking across the keyboard, "We were thwarted by a damn _cat."_

Syaoran freezes mid-motion. With a frown, Kurogane glances up from the screen; the look on the boy's face makes him double-take. Conflict wars across that open face. After so many weeks of staring at Fai's vacant smiles and feeling like a man attempting to have a conversation with a _wall, _this is a rather welcome change.

"What's wrong?"

With a jolt, Syaoran appears to snap out of it.

"Nothing," he laughs nervously, "Nothing at all. Can you hear that? I think the phone is ringing outside. I'll just go pick it up."

Sighing, Kurogane gets up and hauls the boy back by the scruff.

"That was pathetic," he deadpans, "Even for you. I have good hearing and you should remember that. What do you know that you aren't telling me?"

Gesturing frantically, Syaoran shakes his head so vehemently that Kurogane feels dizzy just _looking _at him.

"I wouldn't know anything more than you would, Kurogane-san!" he blurts, his speech getting faster and faster like a steam train picking up momentum, "I'm not on the case after all, so I don't see why you think I'd know anything nowifyou'llexcusemeIhavetogo_pickupthe—_"

Not even finishing his sentence, Syaoran turns on his heel and _flees _the moment Kurogane's grip loosens on him.

"Oi, oi!" Kurogane calls after him, "At least give me a convincing excuse, you know? Tomoyo would have answered the call!"

The door swings shut.

Kurogane blinks at the closed door. Looks back at his screen. Looks up again.

"And finish your sentences!" he yells for good measure, and then returns his attention to his report. Well. Half of his attention, at least.

Fingers still dancing rapidly over the keyboard, Kurogane sighs. He often forgets that Syaoran was from the _other _side as well. But forget as he might, the truth was that he _was, _and that meant that he was bound by _their _rules as well. In his defense, it isn't too hard to forget when Syaoran was so much like a normal person. He wasn't like a halflight at all. Though Kurogane himself doesn't quite know what a halflight is supposed to be like, what those from the _other _side are supposed to be like. The realization is somewhat shocking; he'd always taken for granted that there was a great divide between this side and _that _side, but he's never known what divides them. But thinking of Syaoran, of Sakura, of Yuzuriha, of _Fai…_

He is somewhat disturbed to find that he can no longer think of them as something _other._

The sudden blasting of a familiar Japanese rock song pulls him from his thoughts. It takes him awhile to fish his phone out from his pocket.

_Call Hahaue when you get home._

He blinks at the flashing screen before he gathers enough of his brain to dismiss the reminder and thus stop the racket his phone is making. But what_ever_ had made him think that he'd be home at this time?

It hits him like a truck.

"Shit!"

His report is done in two minutes (the reminder of just _why _he has to be home is a catalyst to that) and his office is kept in five. Ten minutes later, he is driving to the nearby Mexican take-away because…. Well. Because he can't expect Fai to cook for himself, and the _idiot _blonde _will _give him a hard enough time about it when he gets home. He hears Tomoyo call out to him mid-conversation with Syaoran, but he ignores her.

"Mouuu! Just _look _at this cousin of mine! You'd think he was running late for a date with Madonna!"

Kurogane tries his best to completely _eradicate _the implications of those words from his head.

* * *

Coming up from the carpark, he catches sight of a rather suspicious lot, all in uniform with lots of bulky wires and metal bits and _surveillance cameras. _It is not too difficult to deduce just _who _they are and _what _they are here for.

"Oi!" Kurogane yells, and they turn around, "You lot are going up to the fifth floor to install surveillance cameras, right?"

A burly guy (they are all burly) nods his head.

"That's my place," Kurogane hollers, "I'm going out, but I'll leave the door open for you."

Without waiting for a reply, he turns and begins to jog up the stairs. From the amount of stuff they had with them, Kurogane assumes that they will likely take the lift; he'll reach the fifth floor before they do. By the time he does reach the fifth floor, he is a little out of breath—the result of having a desk-job he supposes.

The sight that greets him when he throws his (unlocked) front door open does not amuse him in the slightest.

"Ah! Kuro-chou is home."

The door swings shut behind him, closing with an audible _click._

"What _are _you doing?"

Squashed up in the tiny space between his coffee table and his ancient television, Fai sits on the floor. His hair is mussed just past the point of artfully tousled and into the realm of (sexily) disheveled. That's alright. That's perfectly alright. What is _not _alright is the smoke drifting lazily from the television. The remotes are scattered on the floor, and for whatever reason, there is the slightest bit of soot smeared across Fai's nosebridge; Kurogane has no idea where the soot could have come from. His attention is diverted by the suppressed irritation on Fai's face.

"Well, I was first trying to hack into your cable box so I don't have to watch bloody MTV all the time in a language I don't understand," Kurogane blanches at the honesty, "But that didn't work, so I tried to access the internet through your television, but that didn't work _either."_

"Hacking into cable boxes is illegal, you know?"

The _look _that Fai gives him, although thinly coated in a layer of false serenity, is distinctively unamused. Kurogane raises his hands placatingly. Behind Fai, the television gives a pathetic little splutter, and then dies once more.

"If you're bad with machines," Kurogane sighs, "Then don't go around fiddling with them!"

And suddenly, Fai flares up indignantly, all ruffled feathers and injured pride, turning livid eyes on Kurogane.

_"I'm _bad with machines?!" he splutters, looking for all the world as if he would dearly love to throw something at Kurogane, _"You _are technically _illiterate! You_ are the one who owns a cable set so old that I don't even _know _what model it is, and _you _are the one who owns a television so _ancient _that it couldn't handle the load and _fried! _What kind of television in this day and age does that? And your _router! _Do you know what kind of internet speed you have? And with that sort of _dismal _speed, your television still—"

"Alright, alright," Kurogane soothes as Fai huffs, and leans over the fried machine to see what Fai has done.

"I haven't done _anything," _Fai explodes all of a sudden, _"Your _television is so old that the circuitry leaked all over me!"

Kurogane instinctively raises his hands again, like a criminal being held at gun-point.

"I never said you did anything—"

"It was on your face!"

Kurogane pulls two tissues from the tissue box sitting conveniently on the coffee table, then thrusts it at the seated blonde.

"Well, it's on your face now."

"What is?"

"Soot."

Fai makes a face.

"It's not soot," he says, snatching the tissues and dabbing at the wrong spot, "It's the stuff that leaked. It's all over my shirt too."

"You missed the spot," Kurogane says dryly, and when Fai fails to find it, adds, "It's on your nose."

Frowning, almost cross-eyed, Fai swipes at his nose, and still misses. Finally, Kurogane sighs and drops to his knees.

"Here," he mumbles, frowning in concentration as he grabs hold of Fai's hand and leans closer to dab the smear away, "Okay, it's gone."

Which leaves him still holding onto Fai's hand, leaning over him. The tissues flutter into Fai's lap and Kurogane absently notes the brownish stains on Fai's shirt, the long lines of his pale throat, the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows. Blonde bangs shield blue eyes, but Fai does not draw away, does not tear his hand from Kurogane's.

"I think…" Fai breathes finally, eyelashes flicking down as he lowers his gaze (long eyelashes—he's gaijin, not Japanese), "You've been watching too many korean dramas. This is always how it all starts, hein?"

Loud knocking cuts the conversation cleanly off. Kurogane snorts and throws his hand down, then gets to his feet to answer the door.

"Get changed," he calls over his shoulder, "We're going out."

Fai pauses in the bedroom doorway, turning his face just enough for Kurogane to see his profile.

"I'm not a woman."

Kurogane frowns, hand still on the doorknob.

"I think that's obvious."

Fai still does not turn.

"Then don't treat me like one."

…_What? _

The knocking turns to pounding, and Fai slips away into the bedroom before Kurogane can question him further. With a sigh, Kurogane wrenches the door open and lets the workers in. He doesn't comment on the fact that the door was unlocked and that they would simply have walked in. As they carefully carry their equipment into the apartment, Kurogane hesitates, then opens up the top cabinet and begins to dig through the bottles of sake (half-drunk, opened, and unopened) till he finds the odd one out. As he stashes it away in the bag with their takeaway in it, Fai comes out of the bedroom, doing up the top button of his shirt. Kurogane sweeps his eyes once down his frame, then turns around to walk across the living room and nudge the door open with his foot. For a long moment, he stands outside his apartment, holding the door open for Fai, but Fai only stands in the middle of the living room, watching him with an unreadable look on his face. Finally, Kurogane sighs.

"Shall we?" he asks sarcastically, offering his arm to Fai like a gentleman in those old movies. Narrowing his eyes, Fai glares for a moment before it fades to mocking wide-eyed innocence. The blonde prances forward and slips his arm through Kurogane's proffered one.

"Dear sir," he giggles coquettishly as he bats his eyelashes, "You make me blush."

He looks unbearably smug when Kurogane wrenches his arm out of his grip. They stare at each other in silence for a long moment, Fai with that look of false vapidity on his face (his eyes spark in unmistakable challenge) and Kurogane glaring, trying to summon anger to wash away the vague feeling of discomfort. The apartment door clicks shut behind them.

"Don't act like a woman if you don't want me to treat you like one," he snarls finally, Fai tilts his head innocently to one side, feigning confused naivety.

"If I act like a woman, then Kuro-brute won't be so rough with me?" he asks in an airy, breathy voice, "Maybe I'll have to so that I won't require stitching up when Kuro-neanderthal bends me over and takes my virtue."

Something tightens in Kurogane's stomach, and he makes a mental note to check that nothing in the fridge has expired as he wrenches his attention back to Fai's mocking eyes.

"You joke about that one more time and maybe I'll take the offer," he hisses through gritted teeth. He whips about and storms down the corridor before he can catch the look on Fai's face. The echo of footsteps behind him in the stairwell assures him that Fai is following him so he only turns to face the man when they reach the ground floor. Fai grinds to a halt when he turns abruptly, narrowly avoiding direct collision. For split second, the blonde teeters on the edge of falling forward that centimeter or so, into Kurogane's chest, then he regains his balance and takes two quick steps backwards.

"What?"

Kurogane holds up the bag.

"Where do you want to eat?" he asks a little awkwardly. Personally, he's fine sitting on the stairs to eat, or even going out and sitting on the curb if the security guards tell them off for eating in the stairwell, but he doesn't know what Fai's standards are.

_(He doesn't know why that has become important to him.)_

They blink at each other for a long moment, unsure what to say. Finally, Kurogane thrusts the bag at Fai for a lack of anything else to do. Still bewildered, Fai instinctively takes the bag from him. Another moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Kurogane blurts "It's food," just to break it. The sheer redundancy of his words hit him when he notices the words across the plastic bag all but announcing the contents of the bag.

"Mexican," he says again after a little more silence, "Because… It's western."

_And you're clearly western and we've had a lot of Japanese over the last couple of days, _is what he doesn't say because he's socially awkward but he's not _that _socially awkward.

It seems that he's just socially awkward enough that Fai doesn't know what to say. He lowers his eyes, unsettled.

"Kuro-loup always acts so tough, but he's such a considerate softy," he murmurs.

_"What?"_

"Nothing!" he singsongs as he grabs Kurogane by the wrist and begins to drag him off to goodness knows where, "It's a date!"

Kurogane stumbles as Fai stops abruptly and looks around him confusedly.

"Do you even know where you're going?" he demands, yanking his wrist away.

Fai hums absently as he peers around the corner.

"I want to go to the courtyard!" he chirps, "Where is it?"

Kurogane frowns.

"This apartment block doesn't have a courtyard."

"But I can see it from the bathroom window!" Fai insists, "There's a lot of trees, a picnic table, and _swings!_ I've always wanted to check the place out but I can't leave the house."

Kurogane fights back the guilt at Fai's words. But no matter how guilty he is, that doesn't change the fact that this apartment block _has _no courtyard. Unless…. The bathroom window? Realization dawns. He catches Fai by the elbow and leads him back into the lobby, down to the carpark.

"Non, non!" Fai cries, digging his heels into the ground sharply, "I said I wanted to go to the courtyard! Why are we getting the car?"

Kurogane ignores him and begins to haul him through the dimly lit carpark. The soles of Fai's shoes grate against the asphalt as he attempts to stop their advance and Kurogane thinks to himself, with some annoyance, that Fai is going to spoil his shoes if he doesn't stop doing that.

"Arrête! Arrête! Peu avancé! En arrièr—"

"Shut your damn mouth."

Immediately, Fai snaps his mouth shut and stops resisting as his gaze drops down. Kurogane nearly trips over himself at the abrupt silence. He can honestly say that he hadn't expected the blonde to listen to him and now that Fai is silent, he feels strangely discomforted. Perhaps he had been a little harsh. Had he hurt Fai's feelings? The guilt is a tight squirming ball in his chest, but he says nothing. He has never been good with words. Instead, he tightens his grip on Fai's wrist and drags him through the small, squat building that serves as the carpark.

They are in the basement, but there is a small sliver of window that runs around the walls up against the ceiling and opens up to sunlight and green grass. The old lady next door claims that the architect miscalculated how deep the basement needed to be, and so once they'd started building the ceiling, they realized that it was above ground and decided to leave it in order to let some sunlight into the place. If that was really their purpose, Kurogane thinks that it's failed because the windows are so mucky that not much light gets in anyway. The walls around the estate are a little too close to the building to let in any light either.

Pausing for a moment as he looks around, he spots what he's looking for and pulls Fai to a dim, stank corner of the carpark. The pipes are leaking over here, and the floor is wet and a little slippery with what Kurogane thinks might be mold but what has his eye is the smashed in window. The lightbulb over this corner flickers occasionally like shocks of lightning, but is otherwise dead; if he hadn't already known to look, he probably would never have spotted the missing window pane. Fai is silent although he looks like he'd dearly like to ask exactly _what _they are doing. The guilt hits him again at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Turn around and lean against me."

Fai takes a step back.

"What?"

Kurogane sighs and whirls Fai around so that he's standing between him and the wall. Stiffening like a cornered animal, Fai's eyes narrow. Rolling his own eyes, Kurogane jerks his chin at the missing window pane.

"I'm not gonna give you a goddamn boost because the floor is filthy and so are the soles of your shoes. Now turn around."

"Where are we—"

"Shut up and move."

The look that Fai shoots him then is a little more annoyed this time, and Kurogane feels a little less guilty. The dejected silence had torn at his conscience, but irritation he can handle. Warily, Fai turns to face the wall, his back brushing lightly against Kurogane's chest. He makes a startled noise when Kurogane grips onto the sides of either thigh.

"Ready?" Kurogane asks dryly, "Just grab onto the sill and pull yourself up, then give me a hand."

With a quiet grunt, he heaves. The small jump that Fai makes as he does takes away a good portion of the man's weight, and Fai easily reaches the sill. Like a gymnast, he pushes up with his arms and swings his legs gracefully up. He slips through the gap, and Kurogane watches through the sliver as he pushes himself up onto one knee and reaches back down for him. He takes the proffered arm.

"On the count of three?" Fai calls to him, and he nods, "One. Two. _Three."_

As Fai yanks, he quickly uses the man's (surprising) strength to take two steps up the wall and grab onto the sill. A few moments later, he is swinging his legs to the side so that he can squeeze out into open air. Fai grunts as he shuffles to the side to make way for him in the small gap between building and wall. A metal pipe runs along the building wall, and they both have to stick their necks forward to avoid it. Over the top of the walls that guard the estate, black iron tips protrude upwards. The way out is sealed out by hard concrete on either end of the long stretch, and Fai looks at him as if to say _now what? _Kurogane looks to either side, and finds that Fai is actually tall enough that he has to crane his head a little to peer over the top of blonde locks. He's used to being up to two heads taller than most, but Fai is only a little more than half a head shorter than him. It's probably enough that he might find the impact jarring on his knees when he lands on the other side of that wall.

"Move," he says, and nudges Fai along.

"Where are we going?"

Kurogane doesn't answer the question.

"You see that portion of eroded wall in front of me?" he murmurs into Fai's ear, because they're so close to one another anyway, and he doesn't think that anyone is supposed to be back here, "Later, grab onto the pipe and—" he heaves himself up and gets his foot into the shallow dent in the wall, then swings around as he uses his foothold to propel himself up. He grabs onto the iron spikes atop the wall and straightens up, "—grab onto these things then you—" using the momentum of his upward propulsion, he yanks himself up, gets a foot on the edge of the wall, eases between the spikes, then allows himself to fall over onto the other side"—swing yourself over."

He lands neatly and although he is careful to absorb the impact when he lands, he still winces. He bends and straightens both knees, then turns around to face the tall, painted concrete. He knows that Fai is tall enough to climb over, but the landing will be even worse for him.

"Count to three and I'll catch you on the other side," he calls.

A pause.

"Promise?" comes Fai's muffled voice.

Kurogane rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he calls a little louder, and waits.

There is silence, and then Fai swings himself right over the tips of the iron bars, arching gracefully midair so that he doesn't graze himself on them, and then lands as silently and deftly as a cat. Despite his height, he isn't at all fazed by longer drop, even without Kurogane's help. He straightens up and looks at Kurogane with that same unreadable expression. Kurogane averts his eyes from his intense gaze after a moment, and clears his throat.

"You mentioned swings, right?" he murmured, "Follow me."

The ground is grassy underneath their feet, and ahead of them there is nothing but unkempt bushes and trees drenched in creepers and vines. Kurogane steps gingerly over a mossy drain, telling Fai to mind his step, and carries on. His heart thuds heavily in his chest as he pushes through the bushes, hoping that this is the place Fai's been seeing from the window. The sight of a wooden garden swing assuages his worries as he pushes through the bushes into a clearing. Behind him, grass rustles and twigs snap underfoot as Fai follows after him.

"Is this the place?"

Fai stumbles as his foot gets caught in a root, and Kurogane catches him by the elbow. When the blonde looks up, his breath comes out in a whoosh.

It's not much; the grass is slightly overgrown, the picnic tables are rather decrepit (though Kurogane supposes that it _should_ be able to support their weight) with age and neglect. Over on the far end of the tiny clearing, there is a bench swing and hanging from the low boughs of a tree near it is a tire, suspended with a thick length of rope. Fai lets out a garbled sound of excitement, and begins to run straight for the swings. Kurogane restrains him by the back of his shirt, quietly running an eye over the state of the rope as he says, "Lunch first. Play later."

The rope is fine.

He makes for the picnic table, but Fai scuttles over to the bench swing and seats himself. Like a child, he pats the space next to him as he bounces up and down with delight.

"Let's eat here, Kuro-aime!" he calls, "Come and sit with me!"

With a long suffering sigh, he complies.

(The look of unabashed joy on Fai's face does _not_ make it all worth it. Really.)

After seating himself, he begins to open up the plastic bag on his lap; distributing the cutlery between themselves, opening up the packages, laying out the napkins. That is when he groans and smacks himself in the forehead. Fai straightens in concern.

"What's wrong?"

Trying to fight back the heat he can feel creeping up his neck, he lifts the bottle of red wine out of the bag.

"Forgot to bring glasses," he mutters, not looking at the man sitting beside him.

After a long silence, he sneaks a glance at him, and the look on Fai's face makes him double-take. The blonde is looking at him with a small, fond smile on his face. It's the second time today that Kurogane has caught him looking at him like that, and he wonders if he's done something to make Fai look at him like that, or if he's simply not noticed it before. He resolves to take more notice of Fai's smiles, but the moment the blonde realizes that Kurogane is looking back at him, he drops his gaze abruptly into his lap. His fair complexion makes it much harder for him to hide the rosiness across his cheekbones, so he lowers his head and allows his bangs to fall over his face. It doesn't really work very well, because his ears turn red when he blushes, and Kurogane can see his ears very clearly.

With that observation, Kurogane loses the fight against his own embarrassment, and he feels blood rushing straight to his cheeks.

"We'll…" Fai clears his throat when his voice comes out in a raspy whisper, "We'll drink from the bottle."

There's a tentative touch of fingertips to his forearm as Fai shifts over on the swing and presses lightly against his arm to read the label on the bottle.

"Chardonnay?"

Kurogane shrugs.

"A gift from long time ago," he explains, "Usually drink sake or shochu."

The fingertips turn to a warm palm. It's rough, and when Kurogane sneaks a peak down at Fai's hand, he sees the scars creeping out from beneath his cuffs. Fai has strong looking knuckles, but the fine bones of his hands and fingers are slender in contrast. He is, at once, graceful and strong, and Kurogane doesn't know what to feel about that. He's been with women of course, and he remembers clearly a woman's touch; small hands, square nails, slender wrists, smooth palms. Fai's hands are much larger, much rougher, much stronger but at the same time as elegant and as delicate. _He has the hands of an artist, _Kurogane thinks, and then, _why am I comparing him to a woman? _Fai is not a woman. But men are less touchier than women, and so Kurogane does not know a man's touch. Who else has he got to compare Fai to but a woman? That must be the case, because the alternative is…. He does _not _think of Fai in that way. Not at all.

The warmth of the palm on his wrist and the heat of the body against his side draws his focus, and his fingers are clumsy, fumbling things as he unpacks the takeaway.

"What's that?" Fai asks, and Kurogane shivers when pale fingertips brush his thigh as Fai takes a napkin for himself. His voice sticks in his throat, and he pushes it forcefully out before Fai can notice his silence.

"Quesadilla," he grunts, "Mexican."

"Looks like crepes."

Kurogane picks one of the triangular slices up with his napkin as Fai begins to smack the bottom of the wine bottle with his palm. The faint scent of cheese and onions reaches him as some of the cheese oozes from between the tortillas. The food is still hot through the napkin from how fast he'd rushed home. The cork finally loosens enough, and Fai pops the cork with his teeth and wets his throat.

"Good wine," he compliments, then snags a slice for himself as Kurogane takes the first bite.

"Good food," Kurogane says, a little surprised at the melty blend of cheese, butter and chicken. Fai bites into his quesadilla.

"I didn't know you knew how to match wines," he murmurs through his mouthful, sounding pleasantly surprised, "They mix well."

"I don't," Kurogane tells him, and takes a gulp of the wine, "It's the _only _wine I have."

Fai is right, it _does _mix rather well.

They eat in comfortable silence for awhile, splitting the slices equally between them. Kurogane is done with his share earlier, so he leans back and makes to drape his arm across the back of the seat before he realizes what position that would put he and Fai in. He pulls his arm back, and tries to figure out where to put his hands. Making an incoherent sound through his mouthful, Fai dumps the bottle in his lap, and Kurogane settles on holding it after he takes a swig of the chardonnay. Beside him, Fai is on his last slice, eyes glazed as he looks over the landscape between bites.

"So many butterflies," Fai murmurs as he takes another bite. Kurogane hums absently, and Fai leans infinitesimally closer till their arms are lined right up against one another. Kurogane leans his head back and closes his eyes to the brush of Fai's sleeve against his arm as the man eats. He thinks he might have dozed off for a minute or so, because what seems like a split-second later, Fai's arm is still. Startling awake, he realizes that Fai is done and is sitting quietly beside him, soiled napkin in his lap. There's cheese and little bits of bell peppers and onion on the napkin, and Fai carefully does not touch it. Fai starts, and when Kurogane looks up at his face, he is jerking his face away to look straight ahead. Kurogane blinks, and then suddenly he feels his face flame.

_Was he watching me sleep?_

"No!" Fai exclaims in nearly a shout, whipping back around, and Kurogane realizes that he had spoken aloud. Fai averts his gaze when Kurogane just _looks_ at him, and lowers his voice when he speaks again, "Eh bien… Sort of. _But not that way. _I was just… I don't know how to describe it. Curious? T'sais veux dire?_"_

Kurogane nods a little absently and yes, he does know. Fai turns away, looking across the clearing again. It is the same curiosity that draws Kurogane's eye to the curve of a freckled cheek, blue eyes, coral lips. Fai is undeniably attractive, that much he can admit, and he finds his gaze gravitating. It is the fascination that draws one's eye to a stranger, an aesthetic attraction.

A butterfly flutters close, and Kurogane bites back a chuckle as it tries to land on the tip of Fai's nose. Instinctively, Fai jerks back and brushes it away, wrinkling his nose. It spins away, winded, whirling dazedly through the air at the brush of Fai's gentle fingers. It drops into Kurogane's lap and Kurogane stiffens, careful not to crush it. It crawls over his thigh, wings quivering as it struggles upright and tries to regain its bearings then tumbles over the curve of Kurogane's thigh as Fai leans in.

"What fragile little creatures," he murmurs as they watch it struggle upright once more, "With a little shift you could just kill it, easy as blowing out a flame."

Kurogane stiffens even more as Fai presses a finger to his thigh, rescuing the butterfly from the maze of folds on his pant leg. The butterfly crawls onto his finger, and Fai draws away again. He watches as it begins to crawl down towards his wrist, and lets out a gentle puff of breath. Its wings tremble in the gust that blows it right back to the tip of that pale finger, exactly where Fai wants it. When it begins to wander down again, Fai brushes it back into place with a fingertip, taking care not to damage its frail frame. It flails almost indignantly at the contact, and struggles dazedly over the tip of Fai's finger for a moment, winded by that gentle, gentle sweep of soft fingers.

"Don't fight against me, helpless little butterfly," Fai whispers, "You can never hope to win against an entity so much bigger than you."

Kurogane watches him toy with the butterfly for a moment, watches the little flick of its proboscis over the salt and grease and the cheesy, buttery flavor of the quesadillas on Fai's finger.

"Don't you see how thoughtlessly you are brushed away?" he murmurs, "Why do you still insist on such futility?"

"Stop playing with the damn thing," Kurogane snaps as Fai brushes it back to the tip of his finger for the gazillionth time, "Sadistic freak."

Fai chuckles, then upsets the butterfly from its post with a stronger puff of breath.

"Fly away, little butterfly," he tells it, "Keep away from things bigger than you, or you might get stepped on."

It flutters it's wings once, twice, then spirals helplessly down into the napkin on Fai's lap. It trembles weakly as it attempts again to upright itself, shaken.

"Sadistic bastard," Kurogane swears even as he leans over to watch the insect with a morbid fascination, "You're gonna kill it."

Fai shrugs.

"There are so many butterflies in the world, so many species of animals, so many other living things, so many other worlds in the universe, what does one insignificant little creature matter?"

Carefully, tenderly, he lifts the napkin, cupping it in both palms. Fai stands and moves a short distance away, steps slow and measured, then kneels and lays the napkin on the grass. His gentle hands are a strange contradiction to his callous words. Leaving the butterfly, he returns and snags the wine bottle out of Kurogane lap and takes a swig.

"Was anyone hurt in the hospital fire?"

Kurogane blinks at the abrupt change of topic.

"No," he answers, "We have a missing suspect though. One of your waitresses helped evacuate the patients. The doctor said she was a big help."

When Fai smiles this time, its a small, proud little thing.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, taking another swig before he passes the bottle back. Kurogane takes the bottle from him, and he turns and runs across the clearing. "Watch me!" he cries, and launches himself at the suspended tire in a running jump. As if from underwater, Kurogane thinks he hears himself utter a panicked shout as he stands. The napkins and empty takeaway boxes fall off his lap onto the grass as he starts forward, fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle. Fai gets a foot onto the tire, grabbing onto the rope with one hand and the tire shoots out from under him.

At that moment, Kurogane is almost a hundred percent sure that he's going to fall, but then he swings himself up and around. The muscles in his back and arms tighten, flexing beautifully as he wrenches the tire back underneath him. Like an acrobat suspended from the ceiling of a circus tent, he begins to spin, a blur from the momentum of his leap. And then, as if it weren't dangerous enough that he could fall off from sheer dizziness, he flings one arm and one leg outwards like a door being thrown open, and he begins to spin even faster. His eyes are closed and there's a strange half-smile on his face, and Kurogane freezes in place. His hair flies around his face, and in that moment he is…

_(He is beautiful.)_

…Girly like a goddamned ballerina. The renewed flush that rushes all the way from the roots of his hair right down to his collar is due to _embarrassment _at seeing a grown man of thirty-two prancing and spinning like a little girl doing ballet. _Sheer _embarrassment.

"Oi, you got some long suppressed ambition to be a professional figure skater or something?" Kurogane yells, "Get down from there! If you break a leg or something I'm just going to leave you here!"

Blue eyes slide open, and Fai keeps Kurogane in view as he spins. He is beginning to lose momentum even as he grins childishly from his perch on the tire.

"You promised me, Kuro-amoureux!"

"What?"

"_Count to three and I'll catch you on the other side._"

Kurogane blinks, and then his own words come crashing back to him. The realization of _exactly _what Fai is planning to do comes a close second, and then he is running forward, gesturing frantically and yelling.

"One..."

"I meant get down _after! _I'll beat you up!"

"Two..."

"Don't you dare—stop!

"Three!"

"_Don't jump!"_

Eyes fixed keenly on his own, Fai launches himself off the still spinning swing. Kurogane steps forward, reaching desperately as Fai flies towards him. The impact is painful yet immeasurably relieving as it flings him right off his feet. Instinctively, he bundles Fai in the cradle of his body as he breaks his fall in a tumble. He comes up again in a crouch, vaguely thinking to himself that Fai has _inhumane _aim to be able to fling himself off a swing spinning that quickly and still hit his target.

"Are you okay?!" he demands.

In his arms, Fai is a laughing, panting mess.

"That was fun," he gasps, fingers uncurling from the front of Kurogane's shirt.

"That was _suicidal!" _Kurogane bellows, and attempts to shove the… the _madman _away from him. Fai clings to him, and topples him easily to the grass with a brief tangle of legs. His breath comes out of him in a whoosh when his back hits the floor, and Fai tumbles down right after him. They lie side by side in the grass for a minute or so, Kurogane seething on his back, and Fai chuckling hysterically into the grass, one arm flung across Kurogane's stomach. He quietens soon enough, withdrawing his arm and flopping over onto his back with his eyes closed. They lie there in silence for a long, long moment. Kurogane watches the clouds drifting slowly; a bear, a goat, a ship that breaks up into a top hat and a boot. Finally, his eyes slide closed to the sight of that window of blue, framed with a sill of rustling leaves and spattered sunlight. A haze of quasi-daydream-sleep-consciousness settles over him like a veil, penetrated only by the muted sounds of birds, insects and rustling leaves.

Finally, a breeze rains a shower of leaves down upon them. He lays still and lets them land on him, lets the breeze blow them off of him awhile later. Beside him, Fai shifts and breathes in like a sigh.

_'Quand la feuille des bois tombe dans la prairie,  
__Le vent du soir se lève et l'arrache aux vallons ;  
__Et moi, je suis semblable à la feuille flétrie…'_

Kurogane opens his eyes at the foreign murmur, slow and dreamy like a lullaby with strange melodies, lulls, and sighs.

_'Emportez-moi comme elle,' _Fai breathes, his longing whisper a wistful rasp of fluid syllables,_ 'Orageux aquilons…'_

Turning his head, he watches Fai. His eyes are closed, eyelashes kissing his freckled cheeks, and his expression unreadable.

"What was that?" Kurogane asks in a whisper, unwilling to break the quiet. The blonde does not open his eyes, lying silent and still in the grass until Kurogane eventually turns back to the sky and closes his eyes again. The sky will probably give him more answers than a man with so many secrets, he presumes. And so he is surprised when he gets an answer, delayed, but an answer nonetheless.

"It's a French poem," he mumbles, "Don't remember the title."

Finally, he opens his eyes and turns his head. He watches Kurogane with a half-lidded gaze and a secretive smile.

"How did you know how to get to this place?"

Kurogane turns back to the sky, but he can see Fai still watching him from the corner of his peripheral vision.

"Caught a couple kids trying to climb out of the broken window in the carpark once," he explains off-handedly "They told me so I wouldn't rat them out."

"And we couldn't go around by the front?" Fai asks, amused.

"This is the backyard of a condemned house," Kurogane tells him, "The entrances are all boarded up. They're gonna tear this place down soon."

"Then why'd you bring me, Kuro-cop? Isn't it illegal?"

He shrugs.

"You asked," he says simply.

There is silence, and then Fai pushes up onto one elbow and shuffles closer. He brushes his fingertips so lightly over Kurogane's shoulder that he's not sure if he was meant to notice it, and smiles down at him.

"Thank you," he says quietly, "Mais tu dois arrêter ce ou je vais tomber amoureux de toi, ça te va?"

The lilt at the end makes it sound like a question, but Kurogane only shoots Fai an unamused glance.

"You know I can't understand what you're saying."

Fai smiles that enigmatic smile of his, and then turns back onto his back. Folding his arms behind his head, he sighs and closes his eyes.

"When I lived in the countryside, we used to have a backyard just like this. With a swing and a table and all."

"Then I'm surprised you're still alive."

Fai turns to him, eyes wide and curious.

"Why?"

Kurogane is surprised when he has to fight back an alarmingly genuine grin.

"If you had a swing back home, you'd be monkeying around it all day long like you did just now," he explains, "And that poses a serious danger of falling down and dying. So I'm surprised that you survived having a swing like that at home."

The sound of Fai's laughter is a wild, tumbling thing, like a child rolling down a grassy slope during spring, or a foal stumbling through its first galloping steps. His breaths, _ha ha ha, _spill out of him like bubbles—bubbling and frothing and spilling over the edge and popping and then foaming all over again. Kurogane watches his face for a moment, then closes his eyes and lets the sound wash over him like foamy waves on the shore. Awhile later, he realizes that he is laughing as well. He doesn't remember the last time that he laughed like this, wild and carefree and laughing just for the sake of it.

When the laughter dies down, they lie there for awhile more before Fai sits up and looks at his watch.

"Oh là là là! Kuro-chou," he exclaims,, "We've been here for hours!"

_Time flies when you're having fun, _is what Kurogane thinks but does not voice. Instead, he stands and pulls Fai upright.

"Do you want to go anywhere?" he asks as Fai brushes himself off, "Like, do you want to watch a movie? Go to the park? Get something to drink?"

Fai shoots him a small smile.

"You make it sound like we're on a date, Kuro-amoureux," he teases half-heartedly before he turns away and skips off in the direction they had originally come from. Kurogane sighs and trails slowly after him. By the time he reaches the wall guarding the apartment block, Fai is already waiting there, back turned with one hand on the wall.

"Kuro-chauffeur," he says quietly, not turning around, "I want to go to the beach."

* * *

The low buzz of the engine dies down when he turns the ignition key and digs into his back pocket for his wallet, only to discover that he has no coins for the parking meter. With a sigh, he turns to Fai who is (for once) sitting in the front rather than lying around in the back like a spoilt child.

"Got any coins?"

Fai turns slowly after from the window, eyes peeling away from the crashing waves like a post-it being pulled from paper. He blinks at Kurogane for a moment, and then pulls out his own wallet and empties the coin pouch out onto his palm; he is using the leather one in place of his yellow SpongeBob one. Kurogane's eyes alight on the mysterious photo, its protective film gleaming white in the light.

"Who is she?" he asks quietly, and Fai starts.

"Who's who?"

Kurogane gestures vaguely towards Fai's lap, and when Fai looks down, uncomprehending, then back up again, he sighs and points right at the photo, "_That _woman."

This time, when Fai follows his finger, his lips open in a small 'o'. He licks his lips, and stares down at the photo for a long moment, blonde bangs shadowing his face from view, before he looks back up with a sad smile.

"Someone I loved very much," is his quiet reply.

With that, he snaps the wallet shut and tucks it away in his pocket. Kurogane watches as he pushes the door open and climbs out of the car with a groan and a languid stretch of his spine. The door slams shut a moment later, leaving Kurogane alone in the car until Fai knocks on the window, his voice coming muffled through the window pane, "Are you coming?"

Exhaling, Kurogane turns and emerges out from the other side, closing the door behind him and locking it. From a short distance away, Fai watches him over his shoulder. Assured that Kurogane will follow, he folds his arms behind his head and strolls leisurely down towards the shore, just slow enough to allow Kurogane to catch up easily.

"Look, Kuro-cœur… The sky is so clear today."

And it was. Tucking the car-keys away, Kurogane follows after the man, quickly catching up and walking beside him. They walk together down to the edge of the sand. They take off their shoes and hold them in one hand so that they won't get sand in them. Then side by side, they stroll down the length of the beach. There are children and teenagers and adults and elders in the sand, laughing and smiling and splashing, but Fai walks further to a more secluded area of the beach where there is less shore and more sea; where the waters are more navy than turquoise with its depth. There, they stop, and turn to watch the sea together in silence. Fai's hair whisks across his face in the salty sea-breeze, and his eyes are just slightly narrowed in the glare of the sun, reflected off the waters. His freckles shine golden in the sun, and the skin underneath is pale as the glint of light off the waves. Above them, the sky is just beginning to tinge with the fiery hues of sunset.

_Someone I loved very much._

Kurogane turns away, facing the sea.

_It's good that Fai-san's making friends! He's been so distant since—_

_Since?_

_I'm not supposed to say._

He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath of the ocean.

_Fai-san taught me to cook so many sweets, but I suppose I learnt to cook all the proper food courses when you were still living with—_

_A gasp._

_I'm so sorry, I forgot!_

Slowly, he opens his eyes and sneaks a glance at Fai again. Fai catches his eye and offers him a small smile. His smiles are less wide today, but Kurogane can't help but feel that they are infinitely more sincere than his ear-splitting grins. He supposes that he can settle for smaller smiles if they are like _this _one. Fai looks back over the ocean, lips lifted slightly at the corners. His eyes flick back to Kurogane's twice, and the corners of his lips lift a little more each time.

"You like beaches?" Kurogane asks finally, because Fai doesn't wear the look of a nature-lover enjoying the glories of the world. In fact, he has a strange searching look on his face, a curious mix between puzzlement and nostalgia. At his question, Fai turns to him, raises an eyebrow, and then turns back to the sea.

"I've never _particularly _liked beaches. They were fun, but that was all," he murmurs finally, and if Kurogane weren't standing so close to him, his voice would surely have been lost in the wind, "But I knew someone once… who really loved beaches. I still don't understand why."

"You talking about that woman?"

Fai blinks, startled, and turns to look at him with wide, blue eyes.

"The one in the picture," Kurogane elaborates, although he knows that Fai already understands who he's talking about. Fai lowers his eyes to the sand, smile sliding off his face.

"Yes," he whispers finally, so quietly that Kurogane has to read his lips; the rasp of syllables is carried away by the breeze, unheard. Fai turns away.

"You must have loved her a lot."

The corners of his lips lift again, this time in a smile much sadder than the last.

"More than anything in the world," he chuckles, the sound a strangely bitter one, "Still left me though."

The leaves rustle from the trees behind them as a gust sweeps in from the open sea. Fallen leaves tumble over the sand and the fine grass, getting caught in the crevices of tree roots as they go. Beside him, the blonde locks perpetually falling in wisps over that pale face blow right back. And it's the cheesiest chick-flick moment that Kurogane has ever seen in his goddamned _life, _but he can't help but think… Looking at the smooth expanse of that sloping forehead, pale, arched brows, and the graceful tendons of that throat slipping sensually down past the swell of Fai's adam apple into his shirt, he can't help it. Can't chase the thought away.

_Beautiful._

His heart swells, and it suddenly feels as if his chest is too tight for his expanding heart. His lungs compress in the tight space of his ribs, and he is breathless. This time, the thought refuses to be banished. Kurogane licks his lips and tries not to make it too obvious that he's suffocating over here for whatever unknown reasons. Maybe he'll go to the doctor and ask about it. Heart-burn? Acid reflux? Maybe he has had an undiagnosed heart condition since birth? Valve prolapse—possibly. Or perhaps even hole in the heart. His mother has a heart condition, so maybe he's inherited it too. Fai lowers his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheekbones, and Kurogane sucks in a breath. Tentatively, he tests the thought on his mental tongue.

_He is… beautiful._

When the world doesn't come crashing down on him, when he doesn't die of asphyxiation or a spontaneous cardiac arrest, he licks his lips, and tries again. This time, the sound of the thought of his head is stronger, surer, more confident.

_He is so goddamned beautiful it can't be bloody natural._

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Fai murmurs, and Kurogane starts.

"What?"

Fai looks at him from the corner of his eye, the furrow of his brow is that of fond exasperation.

"I asked you why you—"

A scream from around the corner cuts him off mid-sentence, and Kurogane can't help but be glad that he doesn't have to answer the question. Fai turns away from him and runs in the direction of the commotion, further along the beach. Some of the crowd from the busier parts of the beach are starting to creep along the corner, but Kurogane ignores them and follows after Fai. The sun dips right to the point where the sky is its reddest just as they turn around the corner, and catch sight of a small crowd of perhaps five to seven people gathered around something in the sand, just a short distance away. A few of them are carrying groundsheets and picnic baskets, and a couple more are running from the direction of the carpark, carrying more stuff. A girl is sobbing on the ground, and several of the onlookers whirl away, looking a little green in the face even as more curious onlookers run forward to peer curiously over the small cluster of bobbing heads. Fai is sprinting through the sand, and Kurogane sprints after him, sliding immediately into the role of a civil servant.

"Officer Suwa," he announces, pulling his wallet out and flashing his ID as he comes within hearing distance, "What seems to be the—"

His eyes widen in horror as some of the onlookers turn around to look at him, allowing him a look at the… the _mangled corpse in the sand. _He stares in morbid fascination for a long moment, eying the blackened, charred limbs twisted at unnatural angles. There are some areas of pale, bloated flesh, untouched by flames but half-decayed, but the rest of the body is shriveled from the heat of past burns. The belly of the corpse is slit, like a gutted fish, and some of the blackened entrails spill gruesomely from the slash. His gaze lingers for a moment on the eyes, covered in a layer of milky film, one eyelid burnt right off to reveal the bulging eyeball, and the other nibbled off, together with half of that eye, by sea creatures. The rest of the face is a formless, half-charred, half-decayed, half-eaten mass. The sand around it looks bloodied by the sunset, and the injured sun casts a red sheen over the corpse. It is like the lingering memory of hell and flames and blood back at the docks, even without the fire.

This…. _This must be the missing body. _This had been the man who was murdered on the docks, the victim who had fallen into the waters, dousing the flames and drowning instead.

With barely a thought, his phone is in his hand, and his thumb jumps to speed-dial.

_"Kurogane-san? I never thought you'd be calling me after-hours. Is there something—"_

"The missing body," he forces out, and is surprised by how steady his voice is, "It's been washed up onshore nearby carpark 30B."

_"What?"_

"The missing body," he repeats, "The man who was attacked at the docks."

_"Washed up onshore!? Make sure no one touches the body. I'm sending the forensics down."_

A click, and then the tone sounds as Watanuki hung up. Kurogane snaps his phone shut and moves forward.

"Everyone stand back," he commands in a clear, loud voice, "Don't approach the body, and don't touch _anything. _The police are on their way, please keep calm."

He spreads his arms out.

"Behind me. No one is to approach the body. No need to panic, the police are on their way."

There is a great deal of screaming, and pushing, and trying to get a look. Frustrated, Kurogane tries to bodily herd the crowd back.

"Please let me through, excuse me," calls a familiar voice, "This is the police, please make _way."_

"Kid?" he calls incredulously, and Syaoran forces his way through.

"Kurogane-san?"

"Syaoran-kun, what's going—_oh."_

Slightly behind the boy, Sakura's green eyes peer down at the corpse, wide and horrified. And Kurogane's stomach drops. _Can't let her see this. _Except its too late, and they just have to _get her out of here. _Green eyes harden, and then Sakura turns around, arms wide.

"Everyone, please move back!" she cries, "Nothing to see here, _move!"_

Movement from the corner of Kurogane's eye makes him turn, and Fai is dealing a lot worst than the girl Kurogane thought would be the most affected by this. Fai staggers back, eyes wide and horrified and trapped in a place _not here, _glazed, unseeing. Kurogane wades through the crowd and grasps him by the elbow.

_"Fai?" _he shouts over the din.

Fai cups a hand over his mouth, jerking forward and clutching his stomach, and Kurogane yanks him away before he can throw up over the corpse. But he doesn't hurl, only gags before he whirls away and staggers through the crowd. The mob buffets him about and he struggles through, and he retches as someone elbows him in the ribs.

"Kurogane-san, go after Fai-san!" Sakura yells, "Syaoran and I will take care of this!"

Kurogane casts a backwards glance at the two teenagers, and the crowd is already beginning to tame so he catches Fai by the arms as he stumbles backwards. With the man's warm back is pressed against him, and he shoulders the crowd out of the way. Once they break free of the mob, Fai lurches into the trees, totters a few steps down the pavement, then doubles over and throws up into clump of bushes. Kurogane winces at the painful-sounding retching, then steps forward to rub soothingly at Fai's back as he empties the contents of his stomach. The heaving eventually dies down into wretched sobbing, and Kurogane curses himself when he sees the tears dripping down that freckled nose to mix with snot and saliva.

"God, I'm so sorry," he mutters feverishly as Fai gags again, and then resumes his hysterical sobbing, "I forgot. I forgot that normal people don't really… react well to dead bodies."

Fai doesn't answer, only collapses to his knees, hunches over, and hyperventilates between the terrible keening that rises out of him. Kurogane registers that he must be suffering some sort of panic attack as he strokes soothingly over Fai's back and mumbles nonsense. The blonde's breath hitches, and he hurls into the bushes again. Kurogane winces again at the wet splatter of vomit over leaves. The sobbing dies down into quiet bursts of _uh uh uh _as Fai tries to contain himself. Startlingly quick, Fai straightens back up, sniffling as he cleans himself up. Kurogane shrugs off his jacket and wishes he had something more appropriate to give Fai to wipe his face with. Fai looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes as Kurogane thrusts the jacket at him.

"Your face is a mess," he says, by way of explanation, and when Fai hesitates, "I can wash it when we get home."

Fai sniffs again, then buries his face in the jacket, taking deep and desperate breaths. He winds his arms around the jacket as best as he can, as if it were a teddy bear, and it seems to calm him because his shoulders loosen and his breathing evens. Kurogane strokes his back as he sniffs one last time.

"It smells like you," he says finally, voice muffled from where he still has his face buried in Kurogane's jacket.

"You can wait here for me if you'd like," Kurogane offers helplessly, "I just have to make sure that the reinforcements are here, then we can get out of here."

Fai shakes his head.

"It's alright," he mumbles as he climbs shakily to his feet, "I'm not usually like this—I mean… I've seen dead bodies before. The burns just brought back bad memories."

The forensics degree on Fai's profile suddenly comes back to him, along with the memory of scars over pale arms. As Fai swipes at his face and begins to make his way back to the shorefront, Kurogane wonders what happened to make Fai stop his forensic work to run a cafe. He isn't _quite _the age for retirement. Filing his thoughts away for another time, Kurogane turns and follows after the man in question.

There is still a crowd around the scene by the time they return, now tamer and less panicked. The sun has finally dipped below the horizon, casting the beachfront into night, and the forensics are milling over the dead body like black ants, breaking out the yellow tape in the flashing red and blue lights. From the crowd, Watanuki locks eyes with him, gaze flickering once to Fai. Beside him is that same eagle-eyed man from last time. Kurogane frowns as he tries to recall his name. It was something like—

"Doumeki-kun?"

Yes. That. But how the hell did Fai know?

Doumeki turns, face deceptively impassive; Kurogane notes the minute widening of his eyes as they settle on Fai. Watanuki jumps into the conversation.

"You know one another?" he asks, a little too quickly, as he steps away from the man. It is only with that movement that Kurogane registers just how close they had been standing to one another before. A secret boyfriend, perhaps? Kurogane had been under the impression that Watanuki was ruler-straight, from his tendency to fawn over a mystery 'Himawari-chan' who Kurogane had never met nor heard of; she was definitely not in the police force. Well, there wasn't anything wrong with being in a relationship with another of the same sex. Although he'd never been with another man, Kurogane had no issues with that. Fai's voice breaks him from his thoughts.

"Doumeki-kun works for me. And you are…?"

Watanuki smiles and reaches out to shake Fai's hand.

"Watanuki Kimihiro," he introduces himself, and Fai blinks.

"Oh. You're _that _Watanuki_. _I should have guessed…" he trails off, and offers a polite smile and a cheeky wink, "I'm Fai. Fai D. Flourite."

"That Watanuki?" Watanuki asks quickly, flashing Doumeki a suspicious glare, "What do you mean by _that _Watanuki?"

Fai waves his hands placatingly.

"Doumeki mentions you a lot," he explains with a laugh, "I was wondering who was that nice young woman he was always meeting with. Who would have thought that this mystery 'Watanuki' everyone at the cafe is always wondering about is actually a man?"

_"Whatever that idiot says about isn't true!" _Watanuki defends himself immediately, and Doumeki is as silent as always.

"Oh? Then you don't really cook _that_ well? And you aren't really such a nice person that Doumeki always comes back from meeting you with such a pleased look in his eyes?"

A blush doesn't quite creep onto Watanuki's face as it _explodes _into existence. Embarrassed, Watanuki lowers his eyes and pointedly does not look at the silent man beside him. Kurogane can't help but grin. After a moment, Watanuki turns to Kurogane, face still red, and clears his throat.

"The forensics are still trying to identify the body, but we are quite certain that the victim is a man going by Burugaru, the son a leader of a prominent crime syndicate, known only as the Ryanban."

Kurogane recognizes the name vaguely. The Ryanban is a mysterious man who dealt in drugs, murder, assault, and every other crime imaginable. He was one of the major players in the underworld, and that a lone murderer would dare to target the man's only son was…. Kurogane wonders if the murderer is a madman, or if he's plain suicidal. Or for all he knows, the murderer could end up to be Fei Wang Reed himself, paying mercenaries to do his dirty work.

Fei Wang Reed; the unofficial king of the underworld. The crime lord was wanted for a plethora of crimes, and his face is plastered over every wall at police headquarters, but no one has ever been able to catch him. Unbidden, his face floats to the forefront of Kurogane's memories. Hair peppered with silver and black sideburns. Distinctive cleft chin, and an old fashioned monocle. Fai's words from what seems like millenniums ago plays in his head.

_The big players are warring and if you don't get out of the way, little moth, you'll just be stepped on._

He remembers the movements of the shadowlanders he had questioned, and the pedestrians in Limbo the day he had walked Syaoran home. Cautious, like a cat slinking along the wall as it eyes a sleeping dog. And then when the chaos lying dormant erupts from the shadows—walking away quickly, heads down, trying not to get involved. Fai was the batshit crazy exception to the rule. He flounced, laughed, prodded, teased, and was just generally _unconcerned _about the attention he was directing to himself. Kurogane wonders if he's oblivious, or if he simply doesn't care. His careless actions certainly seem to suggest a certain level of flippancy regarding his own life.

From a distance away, Syaoran and Sakura stand at the edge of the sand, cast in shadow by the trees above them. Amber and green eyes glow with a cat-like luminescence, two pairs of pupils gleaming from within the shadows. Their faces are expressionless as they watch Fai, still chatting with Watanuki, with an eerie intensity. Finally, Sakura turns to Syaoran and says something that Kurogane cannot hear over the din. Syaoran lowers his eyes as Sakura touches her fingertips to the crook of his elbow, watching him carefully. He gives a tiny nod, and then Sakura's fingers slip around his elbow, gripping him loosely. They turn, and Sakura leads him away from the flashing red and blue lights, to be swallowed up in pitch shadows.

* * *

After stumbling into the apartment through the door, Fai gives him a little shove towards the bedroom, chuckling a little breathlessly.

"Go change into your pajamas," he says, and slips into the kitchen, "I'll make us something hot to drink."

Kurogane grunts a thank you, and retreats into his bedroom. He grabs a change of clothes from his wardrobe—a white t-shirt and black boxers—then heads into the bathroom to change. After pulling his shirt on, he relieves himself, splashes water on his face, flushes the toilet, then emerges. Fai's suitcase lies innocuously in the corner where he had dragged it in the morning. Kurogane considers it for a moment, then decides to help Fai get his pajamas out in exchange for fixing them both something to drink. Although he knows Fai keeps his suitcase locked, he drops to his knees and is surprised to find that not only is it unlocked, the zip is also undone. He flips the flap open, and Fai's pajamas are lying right on top. It's only after he takes the folded clothes out that he realized that there's no underwear. Personally, he keeps his own underwear in a separate compartment when he travels, so he begins to search through the side pockets with no results. Finally, he notices an inconspicuous seam that runs all the way around the suitcase. Fishing around for a bit, he finds the zipper and pulls it all the way around before flipping the compartment open.

His eyes widen at what he finds.

_Guns._

There are three; two black ones (one with a wooden grip) and one silver one. Magazines are stacked neatly in one corner, and two mysterious brown paper packages are stashed in another. When he opens one, he finds a mysterious odorless powder. There is a laptop, cables, and some other devices that he can't identify kept neatly in there as well. The authorities claimed that their gun control laws were so stringent that no one in the city was likely to possess one.

Perhaps it was easier to get ahold of firearms down on the shadow side than they had thought.

At the clinking of mugs from outside, he zips the compartment back up, places the pajamas back where he found it, and closes the suitcase. He leaves it unzipped and walks out into the living room just as Fai is setting the mugs down on the table. Seeing him standing at the doorway, Fai offers him a smile.

"Hot chocolate," he says quietly, "I hope you don't mind."

Kurogane sits down and sips at the drink as Fai heads into the bedroom to change. The chocolatey flavor on his tongue is a nostalgic one, and he takes a long, deep breath of the familiar smell. What child had not drunk hot chocolate before bed on a cold day? He switches on the television, and turns the late night news down low. The screen is fuzzy, and there are flashes of strange colors that definitely should not be there. Every couple of seconds, the screen flashes to black-and white static for a moment before the news resumes. It's not perfect, but at least its still (somewhat) functional. The broadcaster's voice murmurs on in the background as the toilet flushes. A moment later, Fai emerges from the bedroom and settles down opposite him.

"Gossipy news on rich people?" he asks teasingly, jerking his head at the television, "Never would have pegged you as the type."

Kurogane blinks and turns to the television. The broadcaster is now talking about some multi-billionaire who had lost almost half his fortune from a bad investment.

"That's stupid," he comments, "Why risk so much of your money with chance games?"

Fai shrugs.

"People always want more money," he says, "They don't think its a bad idea until they lose all that they have."

The video footage behind the broadcaster suddenly changes. It's a village, and there are kids running around, ribs showing as they kick a ball around. The words scrolling at the bottom label the place as one of extreme poverty, where a "miracle rain" after a prolonged drought has promised them a year of good harvest. The next report is on a strike somewhere else in the world.

_Rich get richer, poor get poorer._

_We want income equality!_

_Down with exploitation!_

Kurogane turns away from the angry mob on the screen, screaming injustice and grievances. Opposite him, Fai sips from his mug, eyes lowered to the dark liquid. Exhaling, he sets the mug down, and turns back to the screen.

"It's funny," he murmurs, "But I thought the kids playing ball in that village looked happier than those protesters."

Kurogane can't help but agree, but he says nothing.

"People always want more," Fai continues in a whisper, "More money, more wealth, more position. More and more and more."

On the screen, the currency rates begin to flash, and then news on the stock exchange. In the background, the camera zooms in on city's central business district. At its center, the Candle protrudes grotesquely skywards, its solemn clock-face unflickering and unwavering as it stares coldly down over the city, from skyscrapers to slums.

"Not _always," _Kurogane says finally, helplessly, "Some people just aren't interested in money. Are _you _interested in money?"

Fai blinks at him for a moment, then turns back to the screen.

"No," he answers, "But even people who aren't interested in money want more of something else."

"Maybe there are some people who are content with what they have. You can't say there are none."

Fai does not turn from the screen as he sips at his drink, even when it lapses into static.

"The people who are content with what they have are the people who are truly rich, no matter how little or how much money they really have," he says finally, "I suppose that when you can say 'I have enough', that is when you can be truly happy."

The television splutters and dies into static for a minute before fading into the news again. Kurogane lifts the mug to his lips and downs the rest of his hot chocolate in one shot. Fai follows suit a moment later, and Kurogane watches him carefully as he sets the empty mug back on the table.

"You want some more?" he asks, jerking his chin at the cup in Fai's hands.

A wry, bitter smile creeps over the man's face.

"I'll never have enough."

In contrast with his words, he stands and navigates his way around the kitchen island to wash his cup. Kurogane stands beside him and scrubs his own clean before he upends it over the drying rack.

"I'm tired," Fai says candidly, and suddenly, Kurogane feels an almost overwhelming wave of sleepiness sweep over him. His knees almost buckle, and his knuckles turn white on the granite counter as he blinks rapidly. When he fails to stifle a yawn, Fai brushes his black hair out of his face with a strange smile. Distantly, Fai's voice reaches him, "Let's go to bed."

"It's still early," Kurogane mumbles in protest, and Fai's fingers curl around his arm as he fumbles for the sofa.

"It's been a tiring day," Fai says.

"Then _you _go to bed," Kurogane insists, not quite sure why he's resisting, but just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Fai lowers his eyes.

"I don't want to wake up alone in the dark."

It is likely that Kurogane will be in the room by the time Fai wakes, even if its in the middle of the night, but the honest admission melts his stubbornness. Muttering an affirmative, Kurogane stumbles into his bedroom and falls into the bed. Fai climbs in on his side of the bed, and presses right up against him, back to back. Yesterday, they had slept right on the edge of each side of the bed, but after the horrors they had witnessed today, Kurogane supposed that Fai had a right to be afraid. The television is still running outside, he can hear the incoherent murmuring of the broadcaster, but his limbs feel too heavy for him to move. He falls asleep to the warmth of Fai's firm back against his.

* * *

**A/N: I'M SO SORRY I'VE TAKEN SO LONG TO UPDATE. I'M REALLY SO SO SORRY. Real life is a bitch, and I have my end of year examinations next week. 17k words this time, and my outline is seriously out of whack because my chapters are just getting so goddamned long. I'm likely to MIA for another two weeks while I finish my end of years, then hopefully I'll be back with a lot more free time. Forgive any grammatical errors or poor writing because I haven't had the chance to go over this yet. I kinda just wanted to give it to you guys before I hit the two month mark. Here is the translation for the French poem, which is L'Isolement by Lamartine:**

**_And when the leaves fall down on the prairies  
_****_To be flown off the vale by evening breeze,  
_****_Just as a wilted leaf I'll be forlorn.  
_****_O, northerly, take me with you, windborne._**

**I thought the last line was rather appropriate for Fai and the whole "I've been waiting for someone to take me away" thing. Especially in the anime, where the song playing in the background was Kaze no Machi e, meaning "City of Wind".**


	9. The Murder of Satoshi Watanabe

**Summary: A man is gunned down. Kurogane and Fai go out to buy a TV, and Syaoran drops in to deliver some ominous news.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

_"…yesterday evening. Police officers quickly flooded the scenes in order to…"_

His groan drowns out the rest of the sentence as he rolls over. Red eyes flicker open blearily as his movement is met with soft, warm resistance.

_"On to the business news. Yesterday the Dow Jones industrial average…"_

A sleepy splutter of breath issues from the lump beside him. A moment later, quiet snores resume their constant rhythm; he didn't realize Fai snored. Like a cat, Kurogane thinks dazedly, still caught up in his semi-somnolent state of awakening, like a cat purring.

_"…major oil spill down by the Gulf of Mexico promises a sharp spike in oil prices as…"_

The eloquent broadcasting of the morning news drifts in from the living room. The television is still on from the night before and Kurogane finds himself somewhat put off that Fai hadn't thought to switch it off. No matter. It had not disturbed his sleep. Not that he thinks anything could have disturbed his sleep—the numb grogginess that permeates his body as he slips from between the covers is a testament to that.

He stretches, blinks, notices that Fai is sleeping face-down in the pillow. _He's gonna suffocate himself like this. _With a sigh, he reaches across the rumpled covers to turn Fai over but ceases in his attempts as Fai begins to whimper in his sleep. Letting out a dismissive snort, he leaves the man alone and stomps (quietly) off to the bathroom to wash up. Fai is still whimpering when he emerges, so he takes a moment to shake the man awake. Blue eyes stare up at him, blinking slowly and uncomprehendingly.

"You were having a nightmare," he says shortly.

Blink. Blink. Fai turns over onto his side, back to Kurogane, and promptly goes back to sleep.

The next thing he does is to trudge out of the bedroom to switch off the television. He revises his opinion; the broadcasting is not at all eloquent. In fact, the sounds murmuring quietly from the small speakers on either side of the television set splutters and spits every so often. The television is letting out a low, alarming whine as the recording skips and lags. The remote is not in its usual place, and by the time he finds it (it was hiding behind the hot water dispenser) and aims it at the television, the ancient device gives one last splutter and dies before he can even press the power button.

Well.

Time to get a new one.

As he places the remote back onto the coffee table, he is distracted by the display on his phone. To begin with, he always keeps his phone connected to the charger on his nightstand as he sleeps—he remembers the abrupt surge of tiredness that had overcome him. He has one bar of battery left, and the screen is dulled; probably in energy-saving mode. _9 missed calls, _reads the small flashing box on his screen, above the message prompting him for his password. He keys it in, and the list of numbers roll out. _Watanuki Kimihiro, Watanuki Kimihiro, Watanuki Kimihiro._

The small envelope icon blinking in the corner of his screen alerts him to a single unread message from Watanuki that reads: _Call me back immediately. _He does so.

_'You idiot! Are you such a log that you can't even wake up after I called you so many times?!' _serves as his only greeting.

"Good morning," he says, somewhat sarcastically.

_'Good morning? Good morning?! It's not a good morning at all! It's a bad morning, the worst morning!' _Watanuki screeches over the phone, and Kurogane holds it away from his ear as the shrieking goes on, "_A man was killed last night!"_

Kurogane blinks.

_"What?!"_

_'I said that—'_

Unapologetically, Kurogane cuts the secretary off.

"I heard you the first time," he snaps, and then thinks for a moment, "Fai was with me the whole time."

A pause.

_'….Are the cameras in?'_

"They were in yesterday."

_'Alright then. Ah! Kurogane-san. We've had an… anonymous tip-off that there may be a murder tomorrow night down by the warehouses. We're putting you on tomorrow's patrol. Be at the warehouses by eleven," _a pause, _"That's all. Have a good day. Bye."_

"What? Wait!"

_Beep. Beep. Bee—_

Kurogane glares at the phone as if it were responsible for rude people and their regrettable lack of social skills. He ends the call.

* * *

It's early enough that Tomoyo is absent by the time he reaches the office. The lobby is dark, lit only by the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors. The keys jingle as he fishes them out of his pocket, but he is surprised to find the doors already open. Hushed voices greet him when he pushes the door open and pokes his head in. The light in the kitchen is turned on.

"…it's _wrong, _okay? I can't do this anymore."

The voices are a spare whisper, so quiet that he cannot make out the speaker. With a frown, he throws his coat over the sofa and heads for the door, left ajar.

"You have to. You_ know_ what will happen if you don't."

He reaches out towards the door.

"Then what am I _supposed_ to—"

As the door creaks open, two brunette heads snap up sharply towards him. Syaoran and Sakura each take a discreet step back from one another as Kurogane's eyes narrow.

"Is something going on?"

"No," they reply in unison, "Everything's fine."

Too quick. The silence that befalls them is an uncomfortable one. Sakura abruptly clears her throat as she turns away.

"Here," she says, thrusting an opaque plastic bag at him, "It's for Fai."

Suspiciously, Kurogane peers in, and a nondescript lunchbox peers innocuously out at him.

"Just pop it in the microwave," Sakura says unnecessarily, and offers him a bright smile.

The rub of fur around his shins distracts him adequately from the conversation.

"Souhi!"

Large blue eyes stare up at him.

_"Mrraaow."_

"She was with me," Sakura tells him, and Kurogane abruptly remembers that she'd been gone the whole of yesterday.

"How do you know about Souhi?" he asks somewhat suspiciously.

Souhi rears up to paw at his abdomen, and he reaches absent-minded to scratch her under the chin. Sakura smiles, and Kurogane is slightly wary to note the similarities in that curvature of lips to Fai's.

"Fai told me about her," she says.

A loud hiss draws his attention to the tabby wound around Syaoran's leg.

"Hien?" he asks after a moment.

Hien turns its face into Syaoran's pants leg sullenly. Syaoran reaches down and picks her up with a slight huff of exertion. The cat is a large one, but it purrs contentedly as it bats gently at Syaoran's cheek with one of its massive paws.

"She likes you," Kurogane notes warily, "That _monster_ hates me."

As if eager to prove his point, Hien shoots him an undoubtedly dirty look and hisses. Syaoran pets her ears to pacify her. The effect is immediate; Hien settles against his abdomen, purring contentedly even it eyes Kurogane with distrust. Warily, Kurogane notes the wicked claws the monster cat is armed with, and decides not to tempt fate by foolishly remaining somewhat within clawing distance.

"I'll be in my office," he says in makeshift farewell. Souhi squeezes out after him as the pantry door swings shut after him and pads quietly into his office after him. Ignoring her, he searches along the side of his PC for the power switch, and settles back against his chair as the start-up screen flashes over his monitor.

_Burugaru. _That had been the name Syaoran had given him the night before, hadn't it?

He sets about going through his usual procedure of research, first Google, then the database. Google yields little, but the dead man's profile is slightly more telling. Kurogane skims right past the man's unpronounceable surname, vaguely noting that the deceased was a Korean migrant, to his not _quite_ modest list of criminal charges. Assault, harassment, blackmail and coercion. A hefty bail covered his release every single time, most recent of all a case of arson at a warehouse down in Limbo, just scantly half a year ago.

_Warehouse 62. _Kurogane remembers seeing it in the newspapers. The fire had been particularly bad. The entire warehouse had burnt down, and the flames had spread to nearby buildings, taking down several others with it. Ironic then, for the man to have met the end he had. It is entirely unjust, Kurogane thinks, that the man had likely been dealing drugs down by the docks when he had died. Probably only escaped the deathrow all those times due to his influence in the underworld.

And Fai?

It is with some horror that the realization hits him. Influence, money, power; those were what the murderer needed to buy his way out of the noose when they finally caught him. And who would take the fall then?

With a impatient purr equivalent to the whine of a frustrated child, Souhi clambers up into his lap, clearly disgruntled at his lack of attention towards her. Absently, Kurogane scratches her under the chin. He is surprised to find himself struck with a strong and insistent sentiment, one that bewilders him. _Fai doesn't deserve that. _When had he grown _that _attached to the man? An indignant resistance to the notion of injustice he could understand, but this he cannot fathom. When had the blonde crept so inconspicuously and so completely into his heart? When had he stopped being able to think of Fai as simply, The Suspect?

Sighing, he snaps himself from his pondering. Useless it was; it would do nothing to solve the problem currently at hand. He carefully extracts his hand from Souhi's playful paws and rubs her belly with his free hand to placate her. Painstakingly, he goes through the profiles of every suspect, past and present. Randomly chosen they might have been, but with how hopelessly the case was progressing, Kurogane doubts he has much choice.

Monou Kotori, the pretty blonde girl who'd come to his office what seemed like years ago. She had two brothers, one of whom was a half-sibling from an earlier marriage.

Kuzuki Kakyou, the bedridden son of a rich man, heir to an empire of luxury automobiles.

Kakei and his employee, young Kudou Kazahaya, both of whom lived above their small department store along with two others.

Tsukishiro Yukito, a modest clerk who worked in the city and lived with his colleague and the man's sister—

The thought grinds to a halting stop there. He remembers meeting Touya when the man had come to pick Yukito from his office, and recognizing him when he'd gone down to Limbo to get Fai that day so long ago. Hadn't he been Fai's driver? And if he was Yukito's colleague, then the stories did not quite add up.

With a sigh, Kurogane pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping to alleviate the growing throb between his brows. Was the database _outdated? _Because that could potentially cause plenty of problems. Pausing briefly to scratch Souhi behind the ears as she begins to grow restless once more, Kurogane leans over the armrest of his chair to pull the drawer set into his desk open, and is disconcerted to find its contents in disarray.

Souhi lets out a discontented and somewhat reproachful meow as he nudges her off his lap and gets down on his knees to sort out the mess that has become of his files. After rifling through the papers once, he blinks, and looks through it a second time, taking a little more care in his search this time. By the end of his third search, he is certain.

The files of the suspects are gone.

The rest of the case notes are intact in their folders, his old files from past cases are untouched. There is nothing touched except the profiles and notes he'd taken from his interrogations of the suspects and half a page torn off from his own profile. A chill runs down his spine, and despite himself, Kurogane finds himself warily eying the corners of his office where an assailant could be lurking. Souhi is a comforting presence twining itself around his arm….

With a shake, he brushes off his irrational fears. How silly of him; a grown man taking comfort in an oversized _house cat? _A fully grown, six-foot-five trained police officer to boot.

Syaoran, he decides finally, and stands. Syaoran had probably gone through the files for some reason or another. Or perhaps Tomoyo. Yes, Tomoyo. He walks briskly through the door of his office, ignoring Souhi's indignant hiss as she bounds after him and nearly gets caught in his door, and is somewhat put off to note that Tomoyo is still not in office. A peek into the pantry and into Syaoran's office alerts him to the curious fact that Syaoran is not in either, and as he strides out into the reception, he catches a flash of brown hair and a flapping coat outside the glass of the front doors.

Throwing the doors open, he runs after the boy, eyes fixed on Syaoran's back next to another's (_Sakura, _he decides after a short moment) from across the carpark. A yell and a lightning flash of movement to his left is all the warning he gets before a harsh impact to his side knocks him to the floor. The blow is strong enough that he rolls over twice before coming to a dazed halt.

"Oh my god," comes a horrified voice from the main road, "Did that bicycle just knock over that man?"

"Ah! I'm terribly sorry!"

Blinking hard several times in an attempt to clear the stars still bursting over his vision, Kurogane pushes himself up onto all fours. A couple of blinks later, he notices a large, calloused hand being held out to him.

"I didn't see you," the owner of that hand tells him apologetically, "You came out so quickly…"

A strange gleam in the man's eye has Kurogane rising quickly to his feet and taking a disorientated step back. Still blinking, he collects himself enough to notice that the man is wearing glasses. Japanese, probably around Kurogane's age.

"Ah," he says, a little belatedly, "It's alright."

With a smile, the man holds his hand out, his eyes not leaving Kurogane's face.

"Jim Smith," he says briskly, "Terribly sorry."

Acting on reflex, Kurogane reaches forward to shake the man's hand.

A gunshot.

Across the carpark, Syaoran and Sakura whip around, eyes wide.

In front of him, the stranger sways.

A small rivulet of blood trickles down a crooked nose, catching in the rim of silver glasses. Numbly, Kurogane watches the man crumble limply to the floor. Dark brown eyes stare up at him as if in shock, uncomprehending and unsuspecting of the bullet that had so unceremoniously ended his life. The bullet wound weeps silent tears of blood, a red bulls-eye dead centre in the man's forehead.

It is then that the screams start.

Starting, Kurogane snaps out of his dazed shock. His gaze swivels across the horrified faces of passerbys strolling down the pavement and motorists getting out of their cars, a tableau of commuters frozen in the face of unexpected murder. He ignores them all, focusing only on the barest flutter of black fabric around a faraway doorway; an open corridor overlooking the carpark is where the murderer had stood watch.

With single-minded purpose, he gives chase.

"Kurogane-san, where are you going?" Syaoran cries as Kurogane passes him.

A sharp turn down an narrow, isolated alleyway allows him to catch the scantest whisper of near-silent footsteps from above. A few meters down the alleyway is a side-door into the complex, ever so slightly ajar. He is known to have nearly inhumane hearing, and the echo of quiet footsteps, the rhythm of footfalls distinctive of a man hurrying down a flight of stairs with no small amount of grace, leads him on. A small rectangle of light marks the doorway to an enclosed stairwell at the end of a dark corridor.

In a silent prowl, Kurogane moves noiselessly forward like a great cat on the hunt. Despite that, he hears the footsteps falter as he steps through the doorway into the white fluorescent light against white painted walls. A pause, and then the footsteps continue even more silently, whispering quietly away from him. Baring his teeth in a silent growl, Kurogane takes to the spiraling stairs three at a time, thankful for the reach that his long legs afford him.

As if sensing his soundless approach, the murderer quickens.

An occasional flicker of black like a shadow against the white walls, so quickly gone that it could have been just a figment of his imagination, plays through the metal railings several flights above him. This man is no amateur, Kurogane knows. He is silent despite his startling swiftness; his alertness is only another testament to his experience.

The quiet clatter of a door closing has Kurogane leaning out over the railing to discern which corridor the murderer has escaped through. _The top floor._ Hurrying up the stairs, he bursts out into the blinding daylight of the grey rooftop terrace only to finds the expanse of concrete floor empty with not a shadow to hide in.

Pure gut feeling has him bolting for the side of the building. A figure in a black coat disappears down the alleyway, at least ten floors below.

A cursory glance around him provides him with a means to pursuit.

A drainage pipe snakes down the side of the building, black with mold. His grip on the metal is tenuous at best, slippery as the algae is beneath his fingers. Not entirely safe, but worth a shot, judging by the finger smudges already embedded in the mold. Fear has no place in the mindless focus of the hunt. A daring leap over the side of the building and a some careful maneuvering has Kurogane landing safely on firm ground with nothing but a superficial scrape or two to show for it.

As he bursts out from the alleyway into a maze of back streets, Kurogane catches a flicker of movement, a catlike dart up an overflowing dumpster onto a nearby fire-escape down one of the alleys.

Splashing unmindfully through filthy black puddles of stale rainwater, Kurogane hauls himself up onto the fire escape, and is startled when it groans dangerously and tilts ever so slightly under his weight, throwing him against the railing beside him. Through the red grill floor of the fire escape above him, he sees the black shadow of the murderer's feet falter a split-second, balance thrown off by the shift of ground below him. A small stumble, a regaining of footing, and then a deft flash of a black leather trench coat above as the stranger vaults over the railing in a noiseless leap. Gracefully, the figure slips over the railing of the fire escape of the building opposite them and continues in silent flight.

The distance between this fire escape and the next might have appeared formidable to some, but Kurogane has no such qualms about his ability to make the jump. Swinging himself over the railing, he lands with a quiet clatter on the metal flooring of the next fire escape. A passing flutter of the black coat at the end of the building sends him running. Just below him is another dumpster, which the murderer had no doubt used as a step down from the fire escape. A door sways on its hinges a distance down the narrow alleyway.

Leaping down onto the dumpster's lid and then down onto the slippery floor, Kurogane wrenches the door open and finds himself confronted with the musty smell of dusty cardboard boxes upon rusty metal shelves.

A storehouse.

A quiet rustle of fabric has him dropping into a defensive stance. A pause.

Through the shelves, he catches sight of a figure slipping nimbly down the aisles, just a couple of feet away. Their dance is that of two wary predators, circling each other semi-blindly around the maze of shelves. They are both dressed in the darkest of blacks, and in this unlit room of shadows and mysterious objects that could at any moment be mistaken to be a man, they are both nigh invisible to one another.

A sudden flash of black through a gap in the boxes in front of him has Kurogane jerking back. _On the other side of this shelf. _At his involuntary intake of air, the man on the opposite side of the shelf starts. A pause. The murderer bolts.

Cursing, Kurogane sprints down the aisle and swings around the end of the shelf in time to see a door slam shut at the end of the room. Forgoing all silence now that they are both undoubtedly aware of one another, he barrels down the room, unceremoniously pushing brooms and buckets out of his way. Loping the last few steps, he grasps the cold handle of the door and wrenches it open to the shock of daylight, the roar of human activity, and the impact of a frail body against his own.

With a yell and a clatter, an old man falls to the floor, dropping the black garbage bag he'd been carrying. Swearing, Kurogane stumbles over the man and falls to one knee.

"Are you alright?"

The sudden commotion that surrounds him, the faceless mob pressing in around him is too much for him. Disorientated, he blinks as he scans through the crowd, deaf to their chatter.

A single face stands out to him amidst the sea of strangers.

Black hair falls into disconcertingly mismatched eyes staring right back at him, one a frighteningly intense hawk's yellow, the other a blind, milky white. A face that would have been considered handsome by many, bearing an expression so like stone that it shook him.

A slow, deliberate blink, and then the man melds away into the throng, gone as quickly as a passing shadow.

* * *

Hours later, he finds himself finally cleared of all administrative issues, having given his account of events. He would have been worried about Fai, hungry back at his apartment, but Sakura had offered to take the bento to him. The dead man's body is currently going through forensic probing but still, that stranger's face lingers in his memory.

Had that been the same man responsible for the arson-murder cases he was now so deeply embroiled in? The style and timing of the murder was completely different. Jim Smith had been shot in broad daylight, and his murder had been clean and painfully efficient. The man he'd seen hadn't matched the description they'd been given right at the beginning of all this either. _Fair hair and light eyes, _Leah Cummins had told them before she had been murdered in her apartment. Was that description wrong then?

But Kurogane had seen the murderer himself, and the style of dress was definitely unalike. The murderer had always worn an executioner's hood; or had the man perhaps abandoned his disguise, suspicious as it was to be donning such a garb during the daylight hours when people still roamed the streets?

Groaning, Kurogane starts the engine and begins to reverse out of the parking lot. All this speculating would do him no good. Conjecture. He had nothing to base his investigations on, which likely explained his own confusion. The ride back to his apartment passes in a blur of worries and paranoia. Even ascending the stairs, striding purposely down the corridor, unlocking the door, the paranoia persists in the form of a nagging itch at the back of his neck, as if someone is watching him.

_Constant paranoia that one is being watched is a sign of schizophrenia, _he thinks to himself frustratedly as he turns the key in the lock. A click, and the door swings open.

The room is dark, but Fai jerks up from the couch, and his bewildered blue eyes and tousled hair lends credence to Kurogane's suspicion that he'd been napping on the couch. His statement immediately after cements the though.

"_Merde," _Fai groans as he rubs the back of his neck, "Sleeping on the couch is never good for one's back."

Shrugging his coat off, he flings it over the back of a chair, and briefly squeezes the back of Fai's neck as he passes. Moaning, Fai closes his eyes and tilts his head to allow better contact, then rolls his head as Kurogane withdraws and slips into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

"There was a power failure," Fai tells him conversationally, voice drifting in to him from the living room, "I can't turn the lights on."

With an absent hum of acknowledgement, Kurogane opens his closet.

"Did you eat?" he asks casually as he pulls his shirt off.

"Sakura came over to deliver a bento," Fai tells him, "It was good."

The mention of the girl reminds him of an unresolved mystery. Shrugging on a worn navy t-shirt, Kurogane walks back out and plops himself onto the couch.

"Hey, does a man called Tsukishiro Yukito work for you?"

A pause.

"Why do you want to know?" is the evasive answer to his question.

Kurogane frowns.

"Is there something to hide?" he returns.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Fai stand and move over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water in silence. His back is turned, and Kurogane cannot see his face, but the man's shoulders look strangely tense in their deliberate relaxation.

"Trouble comes to those who speak," Fai says finally.

Kurogane quietly considers those words for a moment. Leah Cummins and Syaoran are the first people who come to mind.

"The database said that Yukito was working in a small office up on this side," he acquiesces, "I was wondering if he worked for you, because he did mention that he and your driver were colleagues. I'll have to tell the higher-ups to update the database if it's outdated."

The subtle loosening of those shoulders say what Kurogane cannot pry from Fai's expression, turned away as he is. The quiet of trickle of water against porcelain fills the silence between them before Fai finally sets the pitcher down with a _clack _and speaks up once more.

"He does work for me, but both he and Touya are part-timers. I know they take on many odd jobs so I can't tell you if your database is outdated or not. I really have no idea what the two of them do outside of my cafe."

That explained matters, though it didn't at the same time. He massaged the bridge of his nose as he stood and nudged past Fai to open up one of the cabinets. So _was _the database outdated or not?

"Pour me a glass," he sighs, "I need an aspirin."

There is the briefest stroke of fingertips over his back before Fai withdraws to grab another cup for him, "Bad day?"

"You have no idea."

As he straightens up, Fai pushes a mug into his hands.

"Sakura told me what happened," he says sympathetically, "That poor man."

Kurogane shrugs.

"Shit happens," he says gruffly, and tilts his chin up as he swallows the pill, two more gulps of water washes it smoothly down. He leans back against the counter, "You should get changed," he says finally, eying the crinkled state of Fai's clothes, "I don't feel like cooking so we're going out for dinner."

"Let's have Japanese," Fai says immediately, "I haven't had that in a while."

Kurogane dismissively waves his consent, and Fai sets his own cup down on the island before withdrawing into the bedroom. Finishing the last of his water, Kurogane puts his mug away, strangely comforted by the quiet sounds of Fai's movement from within.

The doorbell rings just as Fai pokes his head out. Fai tilts his head, eying the door before turning back to Kurogane.

"I'm going to take a shower," he says, and then heads for the bathroom with one last curious glance over his shoulder.

A wary peek through the peephole as the shower begins to run allows him a glimpse of a disgruntled looking chambermaid. He wonders what brings her up here when the housekeeping staff were always so discreet, even for a serviced apartment. Opening the door, he greets her with a short, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, sir," she says in clipped tones, and then shoves something into his hands, "Please do refrain from throwing anything that isn't laundry down the laundry chute."

A glance down reveals the mystery object to be the very same bento that Sakura had passed to him that morning, and then taken back.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "Have a guest over."

The chambermaid purses her lips, but her eyes are a little less stern as she tells him, "Please tell your guest that the laundry chute is a laundry chute, not a garbage chute. Thank you."

Her heels clip against the floor as she retreats down the corridor with no further ado. Bemused, Kurogane closes the door after her, turning the bento over in his hands. It _was _a rather pretty bento, one that did not really look disposable. With a shrug, he slips into the kitchen and arms himself with detergent and a sponge. Must as well wash it and keep it, he thinks as he sets the lid down beside him, and begins to rinse out the inside of the bento. It would be a waste to throw it away when it was clearly not a disposable bento.

Something scrawled inside the lid of the bento with a marker catches his eye as he picks it up and turns it over.

_Kakei says thank you for the cake._

A message from Sakura? Putting the bento under running water and rubbing at the words with his thumb yields no results. Permanent marker then. But that was unimportant. The _real _question was why the secrecy? Fai had probably mistook the laundry chute for a trash chute. That he hadn't disposed of the bento by throwing it in the trash-bin as he'd been doing for the rest of his stay _(as Kurogane deduced, since he hadn't had any angry housekeeping staff coming to his door any other day) _surely meant something.

Making up his mind, Kurogane turns the tap off and quickly ducks out of his apartment to chuck the bento into the trash bin in the corridor.

The front door clicks shut behind him just as he hears the shower stop. He settles himself on the couch as the bathroom door creaks open. A moment later, Fai emerges from the bedroom, towel wrapped over his hair once more.

"Aren't _you _going to get changed?"

"I'm fine like this."

Fai shrugs as if to say suit yourself, and plops down on the couch beside him.

"The TV's _really _fried," he comments off-handedly, "It wouldn't even turn on."

Ignoring him, Kurogane turns to watch him.

"Has your birthday passed any time in the past few days?" he asks slowly, and is met with some bewilderment from Fai.

"Erm, no?"

"Then when's your birthday."

Blue eyes suddenly turn sly. Fai winks cheekily at him as he sidles a little closer.

"If I tell you, then I expect a present from my Kuro-pup," he teases.

Kurogane considers the words for a moment before replying.

"What do you want then? I'll buy it for you once your birthday comes around."

With a chuckle, Fai flops over into his lap, resting his chin in one hand as he peers lazily up at Kurogane.

"Advance my gift," he drawls, "Buy a new TV before I _really _die of boredom here. Even watching MTV was better than this."

"We can buy one after dinner."

Fai blinks and sits back up.

"Eh?" he yelps, "I was joking! You don't have to buy a _TV _for my birthday!"

Kurogane sighs.

"I have to replace the one you ruined anyway."

Fai has the grace to look distinctively sheepish.

"I'll pay half for it," he offers, "Since it was my fault it died in the first place."

"You don't have to—"

"I want to."

Kurogane shrugs and stands.

"Suit yourself," he says, "It's not my pocket you're emptying."

A while later, the door clicks shut with a quiet finality behind them.

* * *

You'd think he'd be immune to embarrassment by now. But still, television shopping with Fai has to be the single most _humiliating _experience of his life.

"Oh! Oh!" Fai cries, pointing at yet _another _of the large display screens, "I know that one too!"

Despite the dread pooling in his gut, Kurogane turns around anyway. On the screen, a group of girls are doing some disgustingly cutesy jig. In front of the television, Fai is dancing along to them.

"Gee gee gee gee, baby, baby, baby, gee gee gee gee…."

Snarling, the investigator turns away from those big blue eyes and pouting lips and storms down the aisle. He can tell Fai is following him only from the annoying 'gee gee gee'ing that is keeping a constant distance behind him. As he turns the corner and starts down the next aisle, Fai dances around the corner right after him, batting his eyelashes all the while. His voice is drowned out for a moment by the loud blasting from the televisions on this aisle. They're playing a different video.

"Oh!" Fai gasps delightedly, and Kurogane wants to hide in a hole somewhere, "I know this! Tell me, tell me, t-t-t-t-t-tell me! Ja ja doo doo da dum ma heh~ ma heh~"

Kurogane walks a little faster, but Fai manages to keep up. Halfway down the aisle, he changes song abruptly along with the displays. Kurogane curses as he reaches a dead end, and spins around. Fai is pulling his hands slowly up his body, swaying his hips and looking right at Kurogane as he does.

"Blah blah blah ba da ba sayho, ba da ba da ba sayho," he clearly has no idea how to speak the language, "I want nobody nobody, nobody nobody!"

Kurogane cringes and turns away.

"I want nobody nobody but you," he smacks Fai's finger away and squeezes past the man, "I want nobody nobody but you…"

The worst part is that Fai isn't a bad dancer _at all._ Not that Kurogane is _ever _going to say that out loud. And he can pretend not to see the giggling salesgirls and the other guys standing around checking Fai's ass out. He has to turn back once as they are turning into the next aisle to pull Fai away from one of the salesmen, who he is taking great delight in torturing _(seducing)_. Fai giggles and breaks out of his grip, skipping down between the rows of televisions and spinning around near the middle.

"Bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep _ohh~" _Kurogane makes a face at the practically _orgasmic_ sound that Fai makes, "Bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep bo peep ah _ahhh~"_

It is _the _most annoying song Kurogane has had the misfortune to hear, so the moment Fai turns around, bends over and begins to roll his hips to the rhythm, he turns around and makes his way out of the aisle. Fai _bo peeps _his way past Kurogane, the fists raised by his face probably meant to be some retarded parody of paws (to his dismay, the girls on the screens on either sides of him are doing the _exact same thing) _and turns near the end, dancing backwards.

"Follow me, follow me, nada bada follow me!"

"Shut up!"

Kurogane pushes roughly past the man, patience wearing thin. He doesn't know when this trip turned from television shopping to a game of 'get that _idiot_ away from me', but Fai follows after him, still dancing as he pouts.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sor—"

He might have accepted the apology if it _hadn't been a part of the song, _but it had, so Kurogane turns around and grabs Fai by the collar, teeth bared in a feral snarl.

"Eep!" Fai cheeps, and hides behind his fists, "Bo peep bo peep?"

That single action is so disgusting _(adorable)_ that Kurogane makes a noise of utter revulsion and shoves Fai away.

"How the _hell _do you know all these songs anyway?" he grumbles and turns around to inspect the price tags pasted on the screens, "You don't even know the language."

Fai is humming behind him, doing another cutesy dance,

"What else do you think I have to watch while stuck at home?" he asks, dancing along behind Kurogane, "It's not like I can actually leave the house unless you take me out. Unofficial house arrest, yes?"

Kurogane feels a little guilty for that, and resolves to take Fai out more often as he straightens up in front of the television. He immediately takes the sentiment back as he sees Fai—reflected in the dark background of the dancing girls on the screen—gyrating wildly, and making kissy faces at Kurogane's turned back. He turns around, a thunderous look on his face, and Fai is facing a different direction, 'absently' doing his cutesy dance again.

Kurogane forces the urge to throttle the blonde down, and marches on to the next television to check the price, ignoring Fai's gyrating reflection. He'll make Fai carry the TV home later. That'll teach him to… do strange things behind Kurogane's back.

* * *

Kurogane ends up carrying the TV home anyway.

And of course, in the lobby Fai, _insists _that they get the mail out _now, _while Kurogane is standing there grunting and straining with the television in his arms. At the door, Fai begins to oh-so-slowly look for his keys, rambling slowly about oh where are his keys and oh are they in this pocket, no not there, perhaps in here, no, oh where oh where has his keys gone, and could he have left them in the car, he definitely could have because oh, Kuro-chiot was being such a _mean _puppy. By the time Fai gets the door open, Kurogane just stumbles straight in without even stopping to kick his boots off, and sets the television down on the floor. Fai is smiling inanely to himself (though the inanity has a tinge of smugness to it this time) as usual, ruffling leisurely through the letters, bills, invoices.

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" Kurogane grumbles breathlessly from where he is standing in their kitchen. Fai hasn't teased him like this in some time, but the teasing appears to be back in full force now. He reaches over the kitchen sink to flick the lights on, but apparently the power failure hasn't been fixed yet, so he lights a tealight, puts it in a glass, and walks a little down to set it on the dining table.

Fai casually tosses all the other _opened_ papers (that man has never heard of the concept of privacy; those are _Kurogane's _letters) over the couch and onto the coffee table, then sashays over waving the invoice for the television.

"This fucking asshole just paid half the price of your TV out of his own bank account," he says, and points at the subtotal written in red at the bottom right corner.

He tears the paper from Fai's grip and then throws the paper at him. Fai dodges, laughing giddily as the invoice barely makes it to him. He catches it midair and throws it back. Kurogane swats at it when it starts to fall in front of him, right into the fire. The fire from the wick licks over the paper and it crumples up immediately and falls to the tiled floor. It's a small fire, nothing that will spread, but Fai squeaks and scrambles away.

"It's on fire!"

Kurogane shrugs, then snags a pair of metal tongs from a rack on the kitchen island and bends down to poke at the flames.

"Yeah, it is."

"Put it out!"

Kurogane looks up, and Fai is standing behind the couch, peering over the back of it at the flames with wide eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" he demands, "Hurry up and put it out!"

He picks the crackling paper up with the tongs and takes a step forward. Fai shrinks away, blanching.

"Are you… _afraid?"_ the investigator chokes incredulously, "You're acting like a girl with a cockroach!"

He takes another step forward, and Fai takes a step back. The back of his knees hit the coffee table. Well. Kurogane never boasted to have a spacious apartment.

"You're afraid!" he crows.

"Stop playing and go put it out!" Fai cries as Kurogane advances around the sofa.

Then the paper disintegrates, falling to the floor in two flaming pieces, and Fai _screams. _He scrambles away and falls backwards onto the table. The remotes, letters and last night's takeaway falls to the floor, along with Fai as the man backs all the way off the table and scoots across the parquet until his back comes up against the television stand behind him. Kurogane freezes, staring in shock as Fai whimpers. His usually playful blue eyes are wide and _terrified_, his face white and lips pale as he huddles up in the small space between the coffee table and the empty television stand. The flames spark a little at Kurogane's feet, paper giving a soft crackle, and Fai lets out choked cry, shuts his eyes tightly shut, and clamps his hands over his ears.

"Put it out! Put it out! _Put it out!" _he screams.

Kurogane turns and, since he's still wearing his shoes, stamps the flames out. Fai promptly curls up into a ball and begins to _cry. _Kurogane starts forward, and hesitates, unsure what to do. After a moment, Fai rises up to his knees, grabs the papers off floor and begins to ball them up and throw them at Kurogane.

"I hate you," he sobs, "I _hate _you!"

Kurogane puts his arms up over his face and winces as the paper balls bounce off of them. Fai is _strong._

"It was just a small fire!" he protests, as Fai throws the last paper ball at his head.

He throws the tongs aside, drops to his knees, and grabs Fai by the wrists as the blonde reaches for the remotes. He does not want to have them thrown at him, nor does he want to have to replace them in the aftermath. Fai shrieks and swats at him, pummeling at Kurogane's chest with his fists.

"You could have gotten us _killed!"_

He pulls Fai close and forcefully embraces him, struggling to contain his flailing limbs and flying fists. The blonde struggles for a moment more, then goes limp, all but _wailing _into Kurogane's chest as he grabs fistfuls of Kurogane's shirt and presses close. The investigator keeps one arm around the man's waist, rubbing soothingly at Fai's back with the other.

"It's alright, it's alright," he soothes mindlessly, "It's gone now, it can't hurt you."

Fai gasps, body shaking as he fights to keep his sobbing under control. A moment later, he is silent, and before Kurogane can even register the change, he is writhing out of Kurogane's arms and standing. His eyes are still swollen and his cheeks are still streaked with tears but he raises his chin, laughs, and acts as if nothing has happened.

"Of course it can't hurt me," he says cheerfully, and his voice is still trembling, "Silly Kuro, what could a small flame like that do to anyone?"

He quickly bustles over to the smoldering paper, snatches the tongs from where Kurogane has flung them aside, and picks it up. Kurogane doesn't miss the little twitch backwards as Fai reaches for it before he presses forward and picks it up. Turning around to grin at Kurogane, Fai stands, walks briskly into the kitchen, and throws it into the sink along with the tongs. That done, he turns and places his hands on his waist, smiling despite the tears still shining on his face.

"Now," he announces, "What's for dinner?"

"We've already eaten dinner."

The ringing of his phone cuts the awkward, stinted conversation that was likely to have followed. Fai's relief is a palpable thing as he backs away.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he blurts, and then flees.

With a sigh, Kurogane digs out his phone and presses it to his ear.

"Hello?"

A pause.

_"Kurogane-san?"_

"Ah, Watanuki," he says briskly, "Is something the matter?"

_"We've identified the body of the man who was shot this morning," _Watanuki says, _"I thought you might have liked to know his name."_

He already knows the man's name, but he doesn't say anything regardless.

_"Satoshi Watanabe," _Watanuki says, _"Twenty-five."_

"Ah?"

_"Is…. something the matter?"_

Kurogane frowns.

"He introduced himself as Jim Smith this morning," he says.

_"An alias?"_

Kurogane shrugs, and then realized that Watanuki couldn't see him. Great, he was turning into _Watanuki _now. A rustle of paper draws him back to the conversation.

"Are you _still _in office?"

A pause.

_"Yes?"_

Kurogane sighs and seats himself on the couch.

"Look, kid," he sighs, "Hurry up and finish your work then go home."

_"I was planning to sleep under my desk," _Watanuki informs him sarcastically, and Kurogane snorts.

_"Bye, _Watanuki,"he says dryly, then hangs up.

_Satoshi Watanabe? _Why give a false name to a stranger? That "Jim Smith" had felt the need to do so was something to be wary of. And why had he been killed in the first place? Had the man already been on someone's blacklist, and Kurogane only a unfortunate passerby? Or had it something to do with Kurogane himself? If so, _why? _Why _Kurogane _of all people?

The doorbell sounds.

Suddenly wary, Kurogane peers out of the peephole, and is relieved to see that it is only Syaoran. He has no idea why, but it is definitely relief that he feels as he pulls the door open to see Syaoran's face, a little troubled, but otherwise comfortingly familiar. When the boy does nothing but fidget in the doorway, Kurogane frowns.

"Come in then," he says, moving aside.

"It's alright," Syaoran mumbles hesitantly.

"Kuro-mi," Fai calls as he comes out of the bedroom, composed once more, "Who's at the—oh… Syaoran?"

"Fai-san."

Fai blinks.

"Well, what are do doing standing there like a lost duckling?" he demands, "Come in!"

"It's quite alright," Syaoran insists, looking quite flustered. Making a quiet noise halfway between a snort and a sigh, Fai trots over and drags him in by the arm.

"Sit," he says, nudging Syaoran into a chair at the dining table, "I'll make you a drink. Hot chocolate?"

Without waiting for an answer, the blonde takes a mug out and begins to go about making a drink anyway.

"So what's up?" Kurogane asks, plopping down into the seat opposite his apprentice.

He waits out the reluctant silence that was not unexpected, but the answer he eventually gets is anything but.

"I'm quitting."

Kurogane blinks.

"What?" he blurts.

Across the kitchen island, Fai pauses in his motions, face still turned away.

"I just wanted to let you know," Syaoran says hastily, "And I also wanted to thank you for being a good teacher and a mentor to me during the times I got to work with you."

With that he stands, and bows so low that he must have been parallel to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, and _flees._

"Oh no, you don't," Kurogane growls, and swings him back into the chair, "Tell me what brought this about."

The boy simply shrugs, saying nothing. Kurogane hazards a guess.

"You're quitting because you've been hiding something about the case," it is not a question, "What have you been hiding?"

"Please excuse me," Syaoran says abruptly, making as if to stand again, "But I really must—"

"Sit down."

Throughout all their time working together, Syaoran has always been an obedient boy. That same obedience does not falter even now, in the face of Kurogane's harsh command. Wincing, Syaoran complies.

"What have you been hiding?" Kurogane repeats.

"Kuro-chiot is being _veeeery _nosy now, isn't he?" Fai tsks from behind him, finally turning around, mug cupped between his hands. With a fond smile aimed at Syaoran, he sets the hot chocolate down on the table, and then slips around the table to stand beside Kurogane. The smile slips slowly off, "Trouble comes to those who speak."

Their positions are disconcertingly reminiscent to a pair of concerned parents having a talk with a rebellious child.

"Is there something you know that you can't say?" Fai asks kindly, "You don't have to tell me what it is if you're not comfortable."

After a short moment, Syaoran nods slowly.

"Something that you can't say then?"

Syaoran nods again.

Looking thoughtful, Fai draws and chair and seats himself. A short moment later, he seemed to have reached a decision.

"Have you found another job yet?"

Syaoran shakes his head.

"No."

Sitting back in his chair, Fai watches Syaoran consideringly for a long moment as the boy sips at his hot chocolate.

"Why don't you work for me?"

Syaoran looks up at him, clearly surprised.

"Is that alright?"

Fai smiles, but his face is serious.

"It would make Sakura very happy," he says, "But I think the real concern is whether you're ready to take this job. It's a completely different line of work after all."

Syaoran considered the inside of his mug for a moment before looking up again.

"I'm ready," he says, the slightest hint of steel in his voice.

With a smile, Fai reaches over and squeezes his hand.

"Then be at work by eight tomorrow morning."

"Oi, oi, oi," Kurogane splutters, "Don't take advantage of my apprentice! Settle wages first!

Syaoran shakes his head.

"It's alright," he says seriously, "I know the people working at the cafe are always paid well."

Downing the rest of his drink, he stands.

"Some visitors came by the cafe. They know you're here," he tells Fai. To the both of them: "Be careful, Kurogane-san, Fai-san."

With one last bow, he headed for the door.

_"Oi," _Kurogane calls as the boy passes, and Syaoran pauses, still looking guilty, Kurogane sighs, and reaches out to pat the boy on the back, "Take care of Sakura. And when I stop by the cafe, you'd better buy me a drink."

For a moment, amber eyes stare at him in wide-eyed disbelief. And then a smile breaks across the boy's face.

"Hai, Kurogane-san!"

Flinging himself into another low bow, Syaoran thanks him, and then rushes off, still smiling.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Fai turns to him, lips curved and his soft, smiling eyes lit up from below by the flickering candle-flame.

"Thank you," he whispers, "For that."

With a start, Kurogane notes that Fai dimples when he smiles a smile as real as the one he is smiling now. It is the most genuine smile he has wrestled from the man yet, and the realization makes his stomach tighten in some unknown emotion. That smile draws him in like a siren's call. As if pulled in by an unseen force, he finds himself leaning forward. A flutter of pale lashes, then Fai leans in as well. For the briefest of moments, stretched out in Kurogane's mind till it seemed like an eternity, their noses brushed.

And then Souhi clatters clumsily through the window with a loud meow, oblivious and looking quite disgruntled at having to climb in like that. They spring apart almost guiltily, averting their gazes from one another. Kurogane can feel his cheeks beginning to burn, and from what he can see of Fai's profile, the blonde is doing no better.

"It's getting late," Fai says a little hastily, "We should go to bed."

Standing, he drops Syaoran's mug into the kitchen sink, and then flees into the bedroom. Kurogane sits alone at the table for a long moment. Sighing, he finally gets up, and sets about washing the mug in the sink. Souhi purrs and winds herself around his ankles, but he ignores her.

* * *

**A/N: I'm dead... and also terribly sorry. You know there always comes a time when one begins to madly question their own writing skills? Yeah, that was me in the few months since my last update. I've basically been drawing lots in my fretful worrying. At one point I was like all hysterical "THEY ARE LAUGHING AT ME. THEY WILL READ MY WRITING, AND THEY WILL LAUGH AT ME" and coming very close to just deleting everything off the site. But then I thought of the X1999 fandom where I am now deeply and irrevocably embroiled, and decided that having writers delete their fics (I follow the links from fic recs) really pisses me off because its hard to find X fic as it is. So I drew. And drew. And drew. I kinda drew the whole holidays away and bugged everyone on dA with journal spam. School has started again now and I am reluctant to start on new drawings while I'm so busy. So I got back to writing.**

**A couple of days ago, I watched the Les Mis movie that just came out, and I cried myself dry. I loved it so much that I actually bought the soundtrack off iTunes even though I'm usually prone to acquire my albums through... less honest ways. Then I finally decided that THIS CANNOT GO ON. (This meaning my aforementioned embroilment in the X fandom.) I mean, I knew I wanted to draw some CLAMP/Les Mis crossover pic. I wanted to draw Kotori as Cosette, but then who the hell would everyone else be? I mean, the closest thing she would have to a Marius would be Kamui, but I decidedly ship Kamui with Fuuma (not Keiichi, not Subaru) and need to include him in one way or another. Then who the hell would Fuuma be? In the end I drew the TRC cast instead, with Sakura as Cosette, Syaoran as Marius, Fai as Jean Valjean, and Kurogane as Javert. Fitting, I am inclined to think. It's still a sketch that has yet to be posted on my dA (where you can find me by the name of pseudo-brush), but that sketch kinda inspired me to start writing.**

**Because I was like RIGHT, TRC. TIME TO START FINISHING THOSE FICS. And that sketch kinda might have inspired Kurogane's pursuit of that... cough... mystery sniper (Sorry, very unsubtle description of him here. Sure everyone knows who he is by now. Oh wait, he didn't have gold eyes in TRC... WELL I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT HE ACTUALLY DOES HAVE GOLD EYES OKAY. TRC IS INACCURATE ON THAT ACCOUNT.) Because... in the sketch they were standing in an alleyway. Watching Les Mis has inspired in me a newfound love for old winding alleys between and around buildings. And yes. Kurogane is really fit for a modern day cop. That assassin in every life must be immaculate, or so is my biased opinion since he's like my third love after Fai and Subaru. He sort of ties with Kurogane for that position.**

**Okay, will stop rambling now. Please do review and shit. Till next time! (Hopefully it will come a lot more quickly than this chapter...)**


	10. The Murder of the Ryanban

**Summary: Misfortune strikes in the wee hours of the morning. A surprise visit brings some department secrets to light, and Kurogane's midnight patrol brings some unexpected revelations.**

**Warnings: Blood and violence. Homosexual pairings (read: CLAMP pairings). KF with other CLAMP pairings. A little dark, with a generally depressing setting. Arson, murder, crime and scapegoats.**

**A/N: I know. I _know! _I have too many chaptered fics going on at the same time!**

* * *

A noise rouses him in the middle of the night; a twig tapping against the glass of the windowpane. His eyes flicker open to the pitch blackness of his bedroom at night, and his senses sharpen as he listens, unmoving. A rustle, and the distinctive sound of someone moving. Not a twig then.

Silently, he slides out from beneath the covers and prowls, shirtless, to the window. It opens soundlessly beneath his touch and looking down, he sees the rusted fire escape overlooking the lighted city, never asleep. A flash of black in his peripheral vision draws his eye, and as he looks to the side, he realizes that the metal of the fire escape is not rusted. No. The red crust is—is…

_Blood._

A trail of it leads away from his bedroom, and in a strange semi-somnolent daze he finds himself compelled to follow it. He swings himself out of his open window and onto the fire escape with a numb ease. Looking down, his bare feet obscures the steep drop below him. Lights twinkle menacingly at him through the metal grill like distant, winking stars; like eyes blinking in the darkness. Suspended between earth and sky, he begins to walk. The Candle flickers at him with an inhumane sentience. 58. 59.

A knell. A knell.

As he turns the corner, he looks up and a pair of inhumane yellow eyes stare back at him; like stars, like the lights below—they glow and twinkle from beneath the shadow of a black, black hood. Blood drips slowly from the crusted tip of a gleaming blade, catching the light as they fall in sparkles.

With a flicker of his coat, the murderer flees. A sudden urgency overcomes him, and he gives chase. The fire-escape trembles beneath their thundering footsteps, but he ignores it. The murderer, he has to catch the murderer. Metal screams as the ground beneath him begins to shift, as the steel secured into the side of the building begins to give. Still, he continues to run. The path swings outwards like a gate, and to each side of the floor he's running on, there is only empty space. The railings are gone, fallen down into the void. The ground is trembling, trembling amidst the insentient lights watching him like blinking eyes.

In front of him, the murderer stumbles, and like a set of scales, the ground begins to tilt dizzyingly until up is down and down is up. And then he is falling, falling upwards, falling upwards into the twinkling lights, into the artificial stars embedded into the distant floor. Falling and falling with no way out, with no way to run. The starry sky watches him both from above and from below, and he's falling, falling into the light—falling up and falling down. The air whistles around him, vibrating under his billowing clothes—trembling, shaking, crumbling, coming apart—

Kurogane opens his eyes to the pitch blackness of his bedroom at night. The bed is trembling beneath him and it takes him a second to register the muffled tune playing against his ear amidst discordant guitars and drums.

_Izure koware yuku kono sekai ni wa…_

_Yume ya kibou to ka dou demo ii…_

His phone. His phone is ringing under his pillow. The vibrations buzz through the pillow against his ear, and Fai is a warm presence against his back. Before he can even reach under his pillow to get his phone out, the trembling stops. The song cuts off mid-sentence.

_Hikari afureteku sono sekai ni wa…_

_kimi no tamashii ga michite—_

He pulls his phone out from under his pillow, and the small rectangle of light washes over the room in a diluted blue glow. The number flashing beside the red phone icon on his screen is one he does not recognize. Sitting up, the blankets fall to his waist, and a muffled noise of complaint comes from beside him. He draws the blanket back over Fai's back, and the man stops grumbling into the pillow. His muted snores resume. Kurogane is a fast learner so he does not even bother trying to turn Fai over. He hasn't suffocated until now, no reason why he should suffocate today of all days.

Taking his phone with him, Kurogane slips out of the bed, intending to return the call somewhere where his voice won't wake his guest. He's not going to go back to sleep after a dream like that, so why wait till tomorrow? As he stands, he turns to adjust the covers over Fai again.

Lights twinkle at him below the menacing gleam of stars. The floor to ceiling windows cannot be opened, and his apartment does not have an external fire escape. He feels along the nightstand until his fingers come across cold plastic. A press of a button, and the curtains begin to close with a quiet mechanical whirr. Kurogane watches Fai carefully for any signs of waking.

Then his house phone begins to ring.

Fai jerks upright with a deep gasp like a diver coming out of the water. The piercing blare of the digital bells echos hollowly around the dark apartment. He'd almost forgotten he'd had a house phone—that was how rarely anyone called it. For a long moment, there is only the sound of that, and the sound of harsh breathing underlining it. Kurogane is not sure whose breath that is.

"You—" Fai's voice cracks; he clears his throat—Kurogane wonders if he'd been having a nightmare as well—"You should answer the phone."

His 'okay' comes out in a soundless rasp. He licks his lips and repeats himself. His voice in his own ears sounds hoarse and shaky. He turns and makes his way towards the phone, hits his shoulder on the doorframe on the way out, knocks his knees against the television stand as he reaches out for the phone.

"Hello?"

The body of his telephone slips off the stand as he puts the receiver to his ear. The handset is tugged from his hand as the cord extends. It crashes to the floor with a hollow clatter.

The lights come on.

Kurogane blinks. Across the room, Fai jerks a little, as if he'd just been splashed with cold water. His fingers slip off the light switch as they stare at each other in the sudden brightness. (Evidently, the power is back.) It's like waking up from a dream, Kurogane thinks, disorientated.

"Are you alright?" Fai blurts suddenly, "I heard…"

He trails off into a helpless gesture of his hand. It falls to his side mid-wave, almost like a spasm; as if he'd cut the motion off before it'd been completed.

"The phone," Kurogane says redundantly, "It—"

'_Hello?'_

Uselessly, Fai starts forward. Kurogane gets to it first.

"Sorry," he says lowly, "Dropped the phone. Who are you?"

"Starlight General Hospital. I believe you are Mister Youou Suwa?"

"Yes."

His house phone. Barely anyone had his home number. That was why it seldom rang. But why…

"Your cousin, Tomoyo, has just been checked into ward 602."

* * *

The mad drive to the hospital and the following trip to the ward, escorted by a sympathetic looking nurse, passes in a dazed frenzy. Ward 602 is a pure white room with four cots; two pairs of beds facing each other from opposite ends of the room. A window, slightly ajar, at the opposite end of the room overlooks the hospital's courtyard. The breeze slipping in from that window carries with it the distinctive scent of early morning dew.

On one of the beds by the window, familiar black hair spills over the side of the pillows. The chart fixed to the foot of the bed reads _Tomoyo Daidouji._ Kurogane only notices Syaoran, Sakura and the slight man sitting in the chair beside the bed as an afterthought. In the dim lighting, his cousin is whiter than the sheets tucked around her, and the bandages around her head contrasts starkly against her ebony hair. Kneeling by the bed, he brushes a few stray strands off Tomoyo's face. She doesn't stir from her slumber. Awake, she'd always seemed so much _more_, so much wiser, so much older, larger than life; in sleep, her porcelain face is just like a child's.

"Suwa-san?" he looks up, and finally takes a proper look at the man—no, the _boy_ seated in the chair. Subaru stands and bows so low that his torso is parallel to the floor, "I'm so sorry about this."

"What are you doing here?"

Subaru bows again.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again, and Kurogane suppresses a sigh; he has yet to find out what the boy is so sorry about—it seemed like he was always being sorry for one thing or another, "I need to question Daidouji-san when she wakes up. I'm so sorry to bother everyone."

"What happened?" Kurogane asks bluntly, "Why is she here?"

"I… I found her tied up in the office storeroom," Syaoran says timidly, "I went back early to clear my stuff out."

"Tied up?" Fai yelps, "She was assaulted?"

"Injuries?" Kurogane prompts numbly, "Did he do anything to her?"

"Just few bruises," Sakura reassures him, "The only thing the doctors were concerned about was the blow to the back of her head."

"The culprit?"

"Hasn't been caught," says Subaru, "That's what I'm here for."

A sudden tide of exhaustion sweeps over him, and Kurogane finds himself slumping with a sigh. The white walls seem abruptly overbearing, like towering giants standing around him. Closing in, closing in; the claustrophobia breeds a strange half-frustrated, half-anxious restlessness, and he finds himself standing.

"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, "Come get me when she wakes up."

"Kuro-chou—" Fai calls as he makes for the door. He pretends not to notice the hesitant brush of fingertips over his elbow as he shoves his hands into his coat pockets. The corridor is lined with windows on one side, but looking out, Kurogane can barely make out a few shadowy outlines of trees and another wing of the hospital across the courtyard. It's early enough that it's still dark out. If Tomoyo hadn't been lying in a hospital bed down the hallway, she probably would have been on the way to the office. Inside his pockets, he digs his blunt nails into his palms.

Tomoyo had almost always been early for work. How could he have dismissed her absence so easily the day before? _Oh god, _she'd been gone even then. Had she then been shut in that dark storeroom, injured and unable to call for help, until _now? _

Looking out of the window is as good as facing a black wall, and so Kurogane continues to walk until he finds an obscure little stairwell. The floor-plan by the door solemnly informs him that he is on the sixth floor, but he'd already known that. A strange pull draws him up the stairs. Up, up, spiraling skywards until there are no more stairs for him to climb. Curiously, he pushes the door open.

The morning breeze washes over him like a cold tide. The rooftop. Concrete floor stretches away from him. There are no walls, no ceilings, the space is open entirely to the night sky. Ventilators hum busily away to his side.

Kurogane seats himself by the railing, swinging his legs over the edge so they dangle outside of the building and pressing his torso up against the metal bars of the building. He folds his arms over one of the bars and peers out over the scenery laid out before him. The faintly sparkling fairy-lights draped haphazardly over the trees in the courtyard glow like candles on the verge of sputtering out—he'd probably been unable to see them earlier because the windows were tinted. Past the boundaries of the hospital grounds, the city loomed, each skyscraper like a grave sentinel.

"You okay?"

He snaps around, and only the unforgettable familiarity of that voice stops him from attacking in reflex. Experience is an unforgiving teacher, and it had taught him to be wary of those who moved soundlessly. Quietly, Fai slips his legs over the side of the building, watching him with unfathomable blue eyes. There is a small but conspicuous space between them, and Kurogane fights down the irrational urge to fill that void.

"You've been strange all morning," Fai says, "Distant. Like you're not really here."

Kurogane shrugs.

"Didn't sleep well," he explains, and then turns the topic towards Fai, "You had a nightmare this morning."

"You seemed to be having one as well."

"It was a strange one."

In the darkness, Fai's eyes seem almost to glow.

"Tell me about your nightmare," he requests.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."

Fai laughs, and Kurogane grins a little sheepishly. That had come out a lot more juvenile than he had expected.

"Deal," Fai agrees amiably, "Now shoot."

Kurogane shrugs again.

"It wasn't anything much," he murmurs, "I dreamt that I was chasing the murderer down a fire escape. There were so many lights all around, from the stairs above and the city below. And then the fire escape disconnected from the side of the building and I fell into the lights, but I couldn't tell if I was falling into the sky or towards the ground."

"I have a recurring nightmare kinda like that," Fai tells him, sounding surprised.

"Is that the nightmare you were having this morning?"

Fai nods, and turns to look over the city.

"I dream that I'm in a dark, dark place," he says quietly, melancholic, " But in front and behind and and all around me there are lights in the distance. Always, this strange yearning compels me to go towards the light, but at the same time I'm afraid. In these nightmares, I can only protest inwardly in terror, but my body keeps moving towards the light although I know this light will destroy me."

Abruptly, he falls silent for a long moment. Just as Kurogane opens his mouth to speak, thinking the story over, Fai continues.

"Eventually I find myself in the middle of the city, and the lights are all around me. But they eat away at me and won't stop until there's nothing left of me but this all-consuming light. So I try to escape, but everywhere I turn, all I see is lighted buildings enclosing me within. Then finally I realize that I have one way to escape, and I look up. But then all I see the starry sky, and I realize that even the sky is the lid to the box of lights that I'm trapped in."

Despite himself, Kurogane feels a shudder go down his spine. Fai's eyes raise skywards, and his brow knits.

"I never knew the sky could make anyone feel so claustrophobic," he whispers, "I never knew that anyone could feel so entrapped by the sky."

"At least it's not like that in real life," Kurogane says in weak reassurance.

"But it is," says the blonde, and there's a strange tinge of hysteria to his voice, "No matter where in the world you run to, you'll always see the same sky. How can you ever escape from that? How can you ever escape from this world that we are bound to?"

Kurogane finds himself irrationally reaching out as if to touch Fai, and immediately stops himself. His hand falls back into his lap, but his fingers tingle with the energy of that aborted motion.

"I don't know," he replies instead, a little helplessly, "Maybe the sky doesn't make you feel that way in other parts of the world."

Fai sucks in a quiet little breath and turns to him with lost eyes. The dread and panic and sheer _desperation _within their ocean blue depths suck him in like a whirlpool, and he's falling, falling—

"They're coming," he whispers, "They're closing in."

"Who's they?" Kurogane asks.

"I don't know," Fai admits, "But they've found me now. It's only a matter of time."

"Let them come," Kurogane scoffs with bravado he isn't entirely sure is genuine or false, "It's my job to protect the citizens of this city—that includes you."

A strange emotion breaks across those cerulean eyes, like the sparkle of sunrise strewn over an azure sea. The expression on Fai's face is one entirely contradictory, seeming at once joyful and sorrowful, hopeful and resigned. His face twists with the effort of displaying the spectrum of emotions, twitching as contradictory expressions pull his muscles in opposite directions—in the end, his facial muscles settle on an expression not unlike one on the verge of tears.

"You—" he finally says in a strangled voice, "I don't know if you're brave or foolish. Don't you know that heroes always die in the end?"

Kurogane shrugs, slightly disconcerted. The praise transmutes in his ears to sound almost like an accusation—was it possible to be _accused _of something not a crime?

"I'm not being a hero," he says dismissively, and just a little too hastily, "I'm just being a decent human being."

Fai's face twists again into that strange half-frown-half-smile. A strange hiccuping laugh bubbles out of his mouth and his eyes are unfathomably regretful as he reaches forward, fingers outstretched as if to caress Kurogane's jaw. His arm twitches backwards before he can make contact, hesitating, suspended mid-motion. In that split-second, the mere centimeters between them stretches out like miles, and the seconds like hours. Kurogane's fingers twitch, rising to meet him halfway…

For the most precious of moments, their fingertips brush in the lightest of caresses—a profound human connection sparking like a spluttering ember, contact at last. Again, that unidentifiable emotion dawns over Fai's face, eyes lighting subtly like cinders glowing in a renewed wind. Kurogane finds his gaze riveted by the look on Fai's face, a look startlingly similar to unexpected rapture. Then the man crumples forward, parchment in a flame, fingers alighting uncertainly in the folds of Kurogane's shirt like a flighty sparrow. Wispy blonde hair tickles the underside of his jaw as Fai bends his head, folding inwards on himself as if trying to compress himself into a small enough size to be completely swallowed up by Kurogane's body.

Kurogane's phone begins to buzz in his pocket.

Fai says nothing for a moment. Kurogane cannot see the expression on his face. They continue to sit there for a moment; two silhouettes highlighted against the city's skyline, two tiny figures—braced together—swallowed up in the blinding cacophony of stars. Eventually, the buzzing ceases, and again the silence fills the void between them. Kurogane brushes Fai's left flank, and then settles his palms lightly on the floor on either side of the man's hips. Fai's blonde head remains bowed under his chin, forehead scant inches from pressing against Kurogane's collarbone. His fingers tighten their tentative grasp in his shirt.

The door to the stairwell explodes open on squealing hinges.

"Kurogane-san! Tomoyo-chan—" Syaoran cuts himself off as he catches them mid-retreat to opposite sides of the roof. A beat, then his face flares siren-red with such immediacy that Kurogane is surprised when he doesn't keel over from the sudden lack of blood-flow to the rest of his body, "Oh! I—Fai-san—"

A pause as the boy flounders for words not forthcoming, and then he throws himself into a low bow.

"I'm so sorry!" he squeaks, "I didn't mean to interrupt—err, I mean… not that you were doing anything—wait, I mean—no, I—_excuse me!"_

The door slams shut as Syaoran flees.

They stare in silence for a moment. A bird sings its first song of the day and the leaves below rustle in a quiet breeze. _Caw-caw! Caw-caw! _A flurry of chirping answers the call in the distance.

The door opens again and Syaoran pokes his head through, eyes lowered and cheeks still flushed.

"Ano, Tomoyo-chan is awake," he mumbles, "I just thought you ought to know."

The door closes again.

* * *

"—and so there I was, early as usual, when I heard something rummaging around in the dark."

He throws the door open and at the other end of the room, Tomoyo is sitting with her pillows comfortably propped behind her back. The lilac sky softly highlights her profile in a faint glow.

"Tomoyo?"

Her face lights up as she catches sight of him.

"Kurogane!" her eyes narrow slyly at her next words, "So what exactly were you and Fai-san up to on the roof that's got Syaoran-kun so flustered, hmm?"

Syaoran gives a weak splutter from where he's hiding in the corner. Fai clears his throat and joins him. Seated right by her cot, Subaru tries to keep a professional image as he scribbles frantically against the clipboard in his lap. Although his bangs are covering his face, Kurogane can see his ears slowly turning red.

Evidently, Tomoyo is not in shock.

"Anyway," she continues on, "I heard something rummaging around in my cousin's office and I turned the lights on, thinking it was a stray cat or something. But I got a real shock when I saw this strange woman ransacking Kurogane's office!"

"There was someone in my office?!"

"Yeah, she knocked me out and when I next woke up, I was in the storeroom. Then I kinda drifted in and out of sleep until Syaoran found me."

Subaru scribbles for a moment more before he looks up.

"Did you get a good look at her face, Daidouji-san?" he asks gently.

Tomoyo's eyes roll upwards as she thinks.

"Black curly hair, really big eyes and an especially small face. Asian. She was really pretty," she turns to Kurogane, "Is she your jealous ex-girlfriend or something? Maybe she thought I was your girlfriend and decided to get back at me."

Before Kurogane can reply to that, Sakura cuts off his incredulous spluttering.

"About so tall?" she asks, indicating a height just a little taller than Syaoran, "Reddish-brown eyes? Black dress? Mole on her shoulder?"

"I don't know about the mole on her shoulder, but yes," Tomoyo says, blinking.

"I bumped into her in the carpark!" Sakura exclaims, "It was really early, and I remember chasing after her because…"

She trails off into embarrassed silence, and Subaru prompts her, "Because?"

"…because I wanted to ask her where she bought her shoes…"

Tomoyo bursts into laughter, "If I had had the chance, I would have asked her where she bought her _dress! _But what _did_ her shoes look like?"

"Black ballet flats," Sakura replies, "A ribbon holding the front closed, and black ribbons winding her calves."

"Oooh! Stylish!"

"She could have killed you!" Kurogane protests incredulously, "Why are you talking about her _shoes?!"_

The look on Subaru's face implies that he's thinking much along the same lines, the only difference being that he was much too polite to voice it.

_"Men!"_ Tomoyo scoffs, "Shoes are shoes are shoes, doesn't matter if they belong to a cow or a madman wielding a chainsaw."

Kurogane gives up on making his cousin see reason. He's been trying since the day she was born, and he's yet to see her budge even a smidgeon from her deranged ways. Groaning, he pulls a chair from one of the other beds and plops down into it.

"Has any evidence been found at the crime scene?" he asks, turning his attention to Subaru, who he knows he can trust to actually be _sane_, "Who's in charge of this case?"

The way that Subaru's face suddenly shifts into shifty-eyed discomfort immediately clues him in to the fact that something must be wrong. Wrong in that mysterious, secretive way that reeks of corruption and abetted crimes.

"Technically," Subaru says quietly, "I'm not supposed to be here."

The fluorescent light above casts a strange dead paleness over each face turned to him in the room. The silence that falls girdles tension into the room. Kurogane waits for the words that will confirm his rising suspicions.

"The higher-ups don't want this getting out. The investigation for this case hasn't been approved."

A curious creaking noise reaches his ears, and it's only when Tomoyo yelps and smacks his hand that he realizes that the sound is coming from the wooden railing of the cot in his fist. Numbly, he pries his fingers open and turns his hand over to inspect it; his palm is red and slightly scratched from the unpolished woodgrain.

Unpolished. Why was the furniture unpolished?

Fai is grasping hold of his wrist, saying something, but when he looks up his eyes are caught by the tarnished bars that holds the curtains. From there, he fixes on the paint peeling from the walls, the cracked tiles here and there across the floor. The pillows are lumpy and the sheets Tomoyo is clutching at no longer appear white. When he looks up, he sees the paint bloated in bubbles over the ceiling in a way that speaks distinctively of leaking pipes. Black spots scatter over the bloated paint—_mold. _The stark reality hits him, and his brain abruptly snaps out of the strange daze he'd been in all morning.

The hospital is _dilapidated. _The _hospital _is dilapidated. He looks back down, to where Fai is fussing over his hand. The fluorescent light casts a flickering, sickly blue glow over the neglected ward and the uncanny sight of _splinters _embedded in his palm is the last straw. Underneath his skin, a strange writhing energy crawls.

Fai yelps as he wrenches his hand away, standing abruptly. The chair topples over from his sudden movement and its clattering impact echoes surreally in the silence. The patient in the bed right by the door jerks and peers around her curtains with bleary eyes. The old man sleeping behind him doesn't even stir; Kurogane vaguely wonders if he has died in his cot.

"Kurogane?"

He turns on his heel and begins to march towards the door. With every step the feeling beneath his skin intensifies until he recognizes that mysterious energy for what it is—_anger. _He is angry.

"Where are you going?" Tomoyo calls after him.

The worry in her voice penetrates the rage for a scant second.

"I'm going to find Ichihara Yuuko."

He slams the door behind him, and stalks down the hall with renewed purpose. As he passes, patients and staff avert their eyes and pretend not to see anything out of the ordinary.

* * *

"Wait—you can't go in there!"

He ignores the receptionist and continues purposefully down the corridor. The lady catches the door as it begins to swing shut, and Kurogane doesn't even flinch as the sharp, rapid clicks of stilettos against marble draws nearer. The receptionist catches him by the arm, and he shakes her off. She falters a little, off-balance, and falls behind him. And although she has to take three steps for every one of his strides, she soon manages to latch onto the back of his shirt. Her hair is wild and her eyes glinting with a mix of bewilderment and, more prominently, outrage.

"Who are you?" she demands, sporadically bursting into brief bouts of running to keep up with his wide strides, "Please present identification, this area is open to authorized personnel only."

"Officer Kurogane Suwa," he answers shortly, "I want to see Ichihara Yuuko."

He turns sharply down the next corridor. He may not work here anymore, but he has not forgotten the layout of the investigations HQ.

"Ichihara-san is currently engaged," the receptionist informs him, words beginning to come out a little breathlessly, "She said that she did not wish to be disturbed."

"I don't _care._"

As he marches up the stairs and turns down the last turn, the lady grabs him by the shoulder and makes a brave attempt to restrain him.

"Wait—" she splutters, "Ichihara-san said—_Security! _Security!"

He easily brushes her off as he reaches Yuuko's office, wrenching the door open with one hand.

At Yuuko's desk, Watanuki lets out a startled squeak and attempts to gather the documents and folders on the table into his arms. A photograph slips from the mess of papers and as the secretary attempts to catch it, the folders begin to topple from his arms. Immediately, he places himself between the fallen documents and the doorway, and begins to frantically gather them up again. Although the head of investigations doesn't react, the way in which her eyes snap up to meet his eyes speaks of her startlement. For a moment, he can almost see the calculations flashing so rapidly through her head that he cannot possibly keep up with them.

"Ichihara-san—"

Yuuko stands and strolls around the table to address the lady still clinging to Kurogane's elbow. She moves with a slow languid grace and the way she stands with one hip out and her lips curling up into a half-lidded smirk is distinctively casual. But despite the typical lazy smugness she wears as she stares down her nose at him, Kurogane cannot help but notice that she has positioned herself such that the youth kneeling on the floor beyond is completely obstructed from view.

"It's fine," she says, managing to sound amused and vaguely patronizing, "Please return to the front desk, I'll deal with _this_ disobedient puppy over here."

The woman falters a little, eyes flickering between the two of them for a moment before she complies with a bow and a murmured, "Yes, Ichihara-san."

As the door closes behind him, Kurogane immediately tries to walk around his boss. Yuuko catches him by the arm.

"That's classified information, Officer Suwa," she tells him. He wrenches his arm from her taloned grip, and she makes no attempt to stop him when he kneels by Watanuki to help him retrieve the documents despite the man's vehement protests. There are profiles of various people, long pages of reports, printed emails, transcripts of phone-calls, but Kurogane's eyes are immediately drawn to the _photographs._

Satoshi Watanabe's lifeless eyes stare up at him from one of the photographs. A couple of photographs had been clipped to it with a paper clip, but had obviously been shaken loose as it had fallen. There are shots of the bullet wound dead-centre of the man's forehead and from it's exit point from behind as well. His body, traced with chalk against the floor, in a pool and blood and splattered brain matter. Then on a gurney in a pure white room, sleeve pulled up to reveal a black tattoo on his forearm—_a bat. _As he picks the first photo up, more photographs slips out from behind it, hanging precariously from the paper clip; he pulls them free.

The first is a pixelated shot, captured through a faraway warehouse window. The man's face is a pale blob in the darkness, and there is a man opposite him. There are a couple more shots of him, emerging from doorways or talking to people unrecognizable to Kurogane through windows. There are names, dates, times scribbled on the margins of the photos. On one of the photos a name is circled in red and a smaller photograph stapled beside the scribble; a photograph of a few strands of long black hair in a ziplock bag. _Xi—_

Watanuki snatches the photograph from him.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to snoop through other people's things?" he demands, voice tellingly shaky.

He sweeps the rest of the documents into his arms. Kurogane catches sight of a flash of silver cables and wires on gleaming photographic paper and one last picture of a silver bullet, blood dried in the crevices of a single engraved cherry blossom. It takes him a moment, but he abruptly realizes why exactly the carving looks so familiar.

_Sakurazukamori. _

Kurogane had never really been sure if the fabled assassin had been real or simply a myth. His alleged operations had always been carried out with such skill that no evidence of the man's existence had ever been found. There were only conspiracy theories and the whispered jokes amongst the officers. _Careful not to dig too far into department secrets, or someone may send the Sakurazukamori after you. Ha ha ha ha._

Then the man with the mismatched eyes had been…

As Watanuki stands and retreats a short distance to reorder the papers, Kurogane turns to glare at Yuuko.

"He was killed by the Sakurazukamori," he says. It is not a question, "Because he was one of Reed's men."

Yuuko watches him, gaze unfathomable.

"Why are you hiding the findings? Why hasn't investigations for Tomoyo's case been approved? You're persecuting the man who killed a criminal, so why not the woman who stole classified files?"

The silence he receives only further solidifies his suspicions. Fury propels him to his feet, but the head of investigations does not even flinch although he towers over her.

"Both of yesterday's cases are related, aren't they?" he demands, voice shaking with outrage and rising in volume, out of his control, "Is that why the investigation hasn't been approved? Because Reed is behind it? Because the authorities are _aiding _Reed?! _Answer me!"_

Finally, Yuuko lets out a breath in an almost silent sigh and tilts her head a little to watch him with half-lidded eyes.

"Do not jump to conclusions so hastily," she murmurs, "Because the conclusions you reach might endanger you."

_Careful not to dig too far into department secrets, or someone may send the Sakurazukamori after you. Ha ha ha ha._

"Are you going to kill me off then?" he growls, "Will I become a scapegoat as well? _Just like Fai?"_

"And what makes you think that Fai is a scapegoat? A scapegoat for what purposes?"

With a derisive snort, Kurogane steps forward. Yuuko simply tilts her head further up, not intimidated in the slightest.

"Cut the crap!" he barks, "You _know _that Fai is innocent. I was with him the night the Ryanban's son was killed. He's dysfunctionally _pyrophobic _for god's sake! He won't cook, won't go near the stove, and he was so scared of a tiny flame that he broke down in tears. He's _innocent _and if you had any shred of human decency you'd let him go."

Yuuko blinks, face as still as stone.

"Your evidence is not conclusive—"

"Guilty until proven guilty then? What kind of _shit—"_

"And Fai will remain under surveillance until the time we are able to prove either his innocence or his guilt."

"You—"

"Please keep in mind that although Fai may be a man chose at random, with no formal evidence whatsoever," Yuuko says, her voice uncharacteristically cold, "You should still keep your mind open to possibilities, Youou Suwa."

For a moment, he stares at her hard eyes in silence. Watanuki watches them from across the room, eyes wide and conflicted.

"In other words," he whispers, "You're telling me to look out for any form of _'evidence' _that can be used to frame him. _Is that it?!"_

Yuuko turns away to seat herself at her desk.

"Bring him with you," she says, "Tonight. The warehouses."

The slam of the door behind him as he leaves does not quell his anger at all, nor does the unnecessary strength behind each downward stomp soothe his rage. As he explodes out into the lobby, the receptionist starts and, recognizing him, glares at him warily. He considers apologizing to her for a moment, but then realizes that in his current state, he would probably end up yelling at her instead. With a final huff, he turns on his heel and emerges into daylight. As the doors close behind him, the draft of air-conditioning cuts off and Kurogane is made suddenly aware of the _sweltering heat._

Great, he thinks to himself, shoving his hands into his pocket. Just _great. _Maybe he's overreacting, but the heat really isn't helping him keep his temper in check. There really should be some study dedicated to proving that heat made one crankier. The higher the heat, the crankier the person. An exponential relationship, perhaps? Well, Kurogane really didn't give a shit about the proportional relation between heat and crankiness, and even if there was such a study, he isn't exactly very interested in the biological reason behind why the heat was making him cranky. All he actually knew was that he was _angry._

That established, he strides forward to navigate his way out of the walled compound, only to be distracted by a quiet chuckle somewhere to his left. A man decked in a long black coat stands against the wall some distance away, face cast in shadow by a low balcony above. From what he can make of the guy's face, he had Asian coloring, and was wearing a pair of shades.

It was the innocuous smile lifting the man's lips that had Kurogane dropping into a defensive stance. Innocuous it was, but there was something _off _about it, about the smile, about the shades, about the way the man held himself with a languid but _deadly_ grace.

"My, I wasn't actually expecting to see you here," the man murmurs, sounding vaguely amused, "But I suppose it's my good fortune that I can kill two birds with one stone."

He steps forward, reaching up to pull the glasses away from his face. Kurogane immediately recognizes the mismatched gold and white eyes.

_"Sakurazukamori!"_

"I must confess that I much prefer being addressed by name," the assassin replies, and holds his hand out with an amicable smile, "Sakurazuka Seishirou. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Above the smile, that single hawk's eye watches him with an uncanny intelligence. He recognizes the look. It is the same look that Yuuko had directed at him. It is the look of calculation. But in this man's eyes, there is no humanity beneath the cold rationality, there is only an inhuman apathy.

_This _is the Sakurazukamori, _this _is the bogeyman of the city's underworld.

It is the_ inhumanity_ in the man's eyes that has Kurogane reaching for his phone to call for reinforcements, but a sharp sting through his sleeve has him recoiling with a gasp. The assassin draws his arm back, suddenly and silently before him. The midday sun glints off a silver blade before it is concealed once more.

"Now, now," the man soothes, unintentionally patronizing, "I'm just here to talk."

The slash on his forearm stings, but there is no burn of acid or poison. He eyes the lobby entrance, trying to calculate if he'd be able to cross that distance before the assassin could catch him and kill him. But with the speed the man had moved earlier…

"There's no need to think so much," his companion tells him, "I _really _am only here to talk. I've been asked to relay a message to you. Would you like to hear it?"

"No."

The Sakurazukamori— Sakurazuka Seishirou, he had said—blinks at him, and then begins to laugh.

"You're an interesting one," he says, "But no isn't really in the list of options."

"Then why don't you tell me this instead?" Kurogane cuts in, "Why did you kill that man in the carpark yesterday?"

Sakurazuka tilts his head just so, watching him with calculative eyes. Kurogane cannot help but feel as if the man is mentally pulling him apart, analyzing each and every strand of his being, trying to understand exactly what made him tick.

"It's interesting how foolish people can be sometimes," he observes, with a curious tone disconcertingly at odds with the words that should have been an insult. Kurogane is surprised that he may have felt better if the Sakurazukamori had sounded derisive instead. Derision at least was a little more human because this… this curiosity… It was as if the man was dissecting him and trying to figure out what exactly made one _human._

"Why did you kill that man?" he repeats, trying not to let his disconcertion show, trying to direct his thoughts away from where it had gone.

Sakurazuka blinks once, slowly, and then smiles. A chill runs down Kurogane's spine as he realizes what exactly had seemed so off about that smile before. It was the way that each and every facial muscle flexed and relaxed in just the right way to convey emotion, it was the way he stood in a slouch so casual that it looked crafted, down to the way he rested his weight on one leg and the way he slipped his hands into his pocket. What was _off _was that despite all the man's body language, Kurogane could not sense the human emotion behind the shell. Every movement was a calculated _semblance_ of humanity.

"He was trying to install a tracking bug on you," the Sakurazukamori explains with a shrug, "So I killed him."

_So I killed him. _Just like that. Just like—

"_Why?" _Kurogane demanded in disbelief, "Why does that even matter to you?"

"My client paid me to prevent it from happening. I prevented it," and apparently sick of making small talk, Sakurazuka continues, "The kings and queens are out to play. Stay away or get burnt in the crossfire. That's the message I needed to relay to you."

_Monster._

"You—" Kurogane manages to choke out, "Did you… Are _you _behind the recent murders?"

Sakurazuka blinks, and then laughs.

"Me?" he chuckles, "I'm not stupid enough to interfere in a grudge so vicious. After all, we're all pawns in this game of thrones."

A pause.

"Or at least you are," he says after a moment's consideration, "I'm not exactly affiliated with any side. That aside, I'd like to imagine that I'm something a little better than a mere pawn."

"You—!"

"Ara, who exactly is this?"

Kurogane whips about, and finds himself almost nose to nose with a spiky-haired man in a leather jacket, combat boots, and orange shades. He takes a wary step back, putting a more socially appropriate distance between them.

"Officer Kurogane Youou Suwa," comes Sakurazuka's voice, now directly behind him, and Kurogane quickly turns so that he has both of them in view. He is passingly pleased to note that he is very slightly taller than the Sakurazukamori.

"Oh?_That _Kurogane?"

"Yes," Sakurazuka replies with a strange smirk, "_That _Kurogane."

Kurogane is slightly disconcerted by the conversation.

"What the hell do you mean _that _Kurogane?" he demands, "And don't you know it's rude to talk about someone like they aren't there?"

The man blinks, and then slips his orange shades off and tucks it in his jacket pocket.

"Ah, I'm turning into Nii-san," his eyes flicker slyly to the Sakurazukamori as he says this, "Forgive me, I've forgotten my manners. I'm Fuuma Monou."

_Fuuma Monou. _Both the first name and the surname sounds vaguely familiar, but for the life of him, Kurogane can't remember just where it was that he'd heard the man's name.

"What do you want, Fuuma?" Sakurazuka asks a little dryly.

"You'd think he wasn't glad to see his own brother," Monou comments off-handedly, and Kurogane starts. This… This was the _Sakurazukamori's brother, _"Taishakuten's looking for you."

"For a job?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"The usual place."

A gust of air-conditioning alerts Kurogane to the arrival of a newcomer. He is surprised to see Yuuko emerging from the office, Watanuki behind her as always.

"Yuuko-san," Sakurazuka greets with a cordial smile.

"You're looking good as always!" Fuuma declares cheerfully.

"It's good to see you too, Fuuma-kun~!" Yuuko returns, equally enthusiastic, "I haven't seen you much lately. Busy?"

"Yep. Been working a particularly challenging job."

"And how about Seishirou-kun?"

"Good, I got a job done yesterday. I was waiting for you. Shall we go then?"

"For lunch?" Fuuma asks, "Mouuu, why wasn't _I _invited?"

And as the three begin to discuss locations and various cuisines, Kurogane is struck by the sheer _ridiculousness _of the situation. _Good, I got a job done yesterday. _Here was the Sakurazukamori, making conversation with the head of investigations about a murder case she was _supposed _to and _had _been investigating just moments before. And here was the Sakurazukamori, his brother, and the head of investigations, on first-name basis, arguing about where they were going for _lunch._

"How about Korean?" Fuuma proposes, "I know a good restaurant not far from here!"

"Or we could always go to the usual place. The Cafe always welcomes us."

"Korean!" Yuuko declares, "You know I can't go all the way down to Limbo and still make it back here in time for my meeting at three!"

The Cafe. Although he had never been there himself, Kurogane suspected that he knew the one they were referring to. Criminal establishment would be a more apt description than honest business.

"I don't think it's very prudent for you to be seen at the Cafe either, Yuuko-san," Watanuki mutters quietly.

That it was a meeting place for underground dealings was always suspected but never investigated. Kurogane suspected some dishonest negotiations going on further up in the department hierarchy.

"Korean it is!" Fuuma cheers.

"Shall we leave then? Yuuko-san has her meeting at three, and I have go looking for Taishakuten later."

"Ah, you're meeting Taishakuten?"

Dazedly, Kurogane can only watch them beginning to stroll away. Watanuki purses his lips and, clutching his clipboard, begins to follow after the three of them. His discomfiture in the presence of two (or perhaps one; it wasn't fair to group Monou in with his brother) dangerous criminals is obvious.

"Would you like me to relay a message from you, Yuuko-san?"

"Ah, just tell him to pass my regards on to… our mutual friend."

"Speaking of which," Fuuma turns and Kurogane is disconcerted to find the man suddenly smiling at him in a way chillingly similar to the Sakurazukamori's inhumane smiles, "Be careful. You have visitors."

A pause, then he tilts his head with a cheeky wink.

"Tell Fai that he still owes me cake."

* * *

He flags a cab down, and the trip home passes in a frenzy of wild theories and fretting. He forgets his change and the cabby has to call him back to collect it. Today is not quite his day. Then in the stairwell, the feeling hits him once more: the paranoia niggling at the back of his neck.

_He was being watched._

No. It was just paranoia from all his speculations. Hadn't he been suspicious of the very same thing yesterday? Yes, he'd been thinking of that as he'd been going down the corridor. Constant paranoia that one was being watched _was _a sign of schizophrenia, and he ought to properly remember that.

Still, he finds himself tuning in to his surroundings, ears sharpened to the sound of his own footsteps and— _There! _That sound! The sound of a stray footfall, out of the rhythm of his own footsteps. Listening even more intently, Kurogane could even hear the scantest sound of feet padding down below.

_Echoes! _he thought to himself feverishly, _Stop worrying, Youou, it's just the echo of your own footsteps. Stop thinking of the worst. Stop it._

Despite the thoughts directed at himself, Kurogane finds himself speeding up as he reaches the third floor landing. The echoes speed up as well. _No one's chasing you, no one's chasing you. It's the echoes. You've sped up so it's only logical that the echoes would too. _He speeds up a little more despite his weak consolations, breaks into a run as he reaches the fourth floor, and by the time he reaches the fifth, has driven himself to such a panic that he's sprinting down the corridor for his front door.

As he fishes his wallet out with shaky hands, his eyes widen in horror because _that there was definitely the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs. _He fervently tries to get the key in the lock, but his hands are shaking too much and—

_Be careful. You have visitors._

_Some visitors came by the cafe. They know you're here._

_They're coming. They're closing in._

—come on, come on, why wouldn't the key just go _in. _The thunder of feet against stairs draws nearer and nearer and looking up he swears he can see the shadow of the very top of a person's head ascending the stairs behind the frosted glass pane of the door—

_They've found me now. It's only a matter of time._

A click resounds through the corridor and Kurogane freezes in horror at the sound that is unmistakably the sound of a gun being cocked—

But then a second click sounds before his front door opens and Fai peers suspiciously out and _god bless _that hadn't been a gun at all, it had only been Fai unlocking the door from the inside. That familiar face lights up when he catches sight of Kurogane before crumpling into concern.

"Kuro-chiot?" he calls, "What—?"

Cutting him off, Kurogane pushes into the apartment and throws his weight against the door as he shakily attempts to lock it. He curses as the key slips from his numb fingers.

"Kuro—"

"Lock it," he snaps, "Lock the door now—Quick! _Lock it!"_

Fai quickly picks the key up off the floor and does so. With a shaky exhale, Kurogane slides down against the door until he's sitting on the floor.

"We're being watched," he mutters shakily to the blonde, "There was someone following me up the stairs. At first I thought it was my imagination, but later I… I could hear him coming up after me."

He swipes at the cold sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his hand, and is surprised to feel sticky liquid against his skin. Fai cries out as he looks down to catch sight of red dripping in rivulets down his wrist and twining around his fingers. His coat is black, but he can see the way it clings to his forearm. When he touches his sleeve with his free hand, it comes away red.

"You're hurt!" Fai cries, and then pulls him over to the couch, "Stay there. I'm going to go get the first-aid kit. You have one, don't you?"

"Second cupboard from the left," Kurogane says, but the words come out a little messily, "No, not the bottom. The cupboards on top."

Fai straightens up and begins searching through the correct cupboard. Kurogane is hit with a sudden realization.

"Wait… How did you get back?" he asks, "I thought I left you at the hospital!"

There's a little huff of breath from Fai that could either have been indignation or laughter.

"Yes," Fai says dryly, "You sure forgot about me quickly enough. _Aha!"_

He emerges victoriously, first-aid kit in hand. Kurogane squirms a little, embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry about that by the way," he murmurs as Fai seats himself beside him, properly chastised.

"Its alright," Fai says dismissively, and takes out a bottle of antiseptic and a plaster from the kit, "Someone came to pick Subaru up from the hospital and I just happened to recognize him, so he helped drive me home. Here, roll your sleeve up."

Kurogane hisses as Fai attempts to slide his sleeve up.

"Fuck," he curses, "That hurts."

Fai helps him out of his jacket, carefully easing the sleeve off his injured forearm. Kurogane hadn't quite noticed it earlier, but the wound the Sakurazukamori had dealt him hurt like a _bitch._

"Shit," Fai murmurs, "Why is it bleeding so much?"

His entire shirt sleeve is soaked in blood. Kurogane sweeps his bloodied coat to the floor with his free hand, then scoots forward so that he won't drip blood on the sofa.

"Take your shirt off," Fai tells him, and heads to the kitchen. As Kurogane begins to unbutton his shirt, he hears the clatter of porcelain from behind before the tap starts running. By the time Fai returns with a basin of water and some clean rags, Kurogane has already shrugged his shirt off onto the floor. Fai sets the basin down on the coffee table and turns around. Blue eyes widen.

"I think we're going to need something a lot bigger than a plaster," he says, and then digs some gauze and a roll of bandages out of the first-aid kit.

The wound runs completely across his forearm and while not shallow, isn't especially deep either. Not a sissy cut, but just enough to serve as a warning that the man was _not _to be trifled with. Despite himself, Kurogane can't help but feel a small measure of respect for the Sakurazukamori's precision.

"How did this happen?"

Kurogane shrugs, and wipes his face in the bicep of the arm not being held by Fai. It comes away bloody, and he curses as the blood runs down his neck and over his clavicle.

"I met the Sakurazukamori," he answers as Fai begins to wipe the blood from his forearm, and laughs bitterly, "Kami, I thought that he was a _myth."_

"Seishirou?" Fai asks, sounding surprised, "_Seishirou_ did this to you?"

Kurogane blinks.

"You know him? And by first name too?"

"Seishirou comes by for cake sometimes," Fai says absently as he begins to dab the antiseptic on with a q-tip. Kurogane hisses at the burn, "It's unavoidable that you'll be running into all sorts of people when you're running a business in Limbo. Even the Sakurazukamori has to eat sometime."

"What? Is your cafe famous for cake or something? Everyone and their mother is always talking about your damn _cake. _Even the Sakurazukamori's _brother _is looking for cake."

"Fuuma?" Fai asks, and Kurogane is less surprised that Fai knows the man. After all, Monou _had _referred to Fai by name.

"He wanted me to tell you that you owe him cake."

Fai's smile acquires a vaguely amused curl to it.

"Oh là là," he murmurs, "Now they're _all _chasing me for cake. I suppose they appreciate the extra icing then."

He turns around and sets the bottle of antiseptic down, then places the gauze carefully over the wound and begins to wrap the bandages over it neatly. Kurogane is suddenly reminded of something.

"Hey," he says suddenly, and Fai looks up, "You took a forensics degree in university right? Why are you running a cafe then?"

"How do you know about that?"

Kurogane stiffens, but Fai only sounds curious and not outraged or offended so he soon relaxes.

"It was on your profile."

"I see," Fai deftly tucks the end of the bandage out of sight, and then stands "The forensics profession was… a little too stressful for me. Nowadays I just sit around all day saying hello to regulars and looking pretty while my girls run around doing all the work."

He turns around, wrings the rag out over the basin of bloody water, then runs it down Kurogane's arm and collarbone before leaning forward and tilting Kurogane's chin up with a finger, bringing one knee up to rest on the sofa beside Kurogane's thigh as he does so.

"Here, you've got blood on your face," Kurogane jerks a little as Fai reaches forward with the cloth, and Fai _tsks, _"Keep still." His free hand slides up from Kurogane's chin to cup his jaw, and then he carefully swipes the cloth over Kurogane's brow, "There we go."

Kurogane sucks a breath in as he abruptly realizes the position they are in. The recent memory of Fai's nose brushing against his, and even more recently, his head bowed under Kurogane's chin and fingers clenched in Kurogane's shirt…

He gently grasps Fai's wrist with one hand, the other he places lightly on Fai's waist. The blonde stiffens, but does not pull away. A rosy flush spreads high over his cheekbones as he lowers his eyes. His eyelashes fan down over his cheeks in a manner that Kurogane finds surprisingly enticing. He pulls a little at Fai's wrist, light enough that it is unmistakably a suggestion and not an insistence.

With a shaky exhalation, Fai slowly lowers himself until he is seated a little precariously on the edge of Kurogane's knees, one foot on the floor and the other bent against the seat of the sofa. Kurogane lets go of that slim wrist and places his hand on the other side of Fai's waist as the blonde drops the bloodied rag to the floor. Smiling, he cups his freed hand behind Kurogane's ear. One hand slips around to the small of Fai's back, pushing lightly. Taking the hint, Fai scoots forward, bringing his other knee up to straddle Kurogane's lap. The defined dimples in his back flexes under Kurogane's palm as he moves, and it's ridiculous just how sexy Kurogane finds that.

"You need to learn when to run away," Fai whispers, blue eyes soft, "If you weren't so goddamned brave, maybe you'd stop getting hurt all the time."

Kurogane opens his mouth to inform Fai that he _had _been trying to run away, and that was why he'd gotten hurt and clearly Fai's theory was _wrong, _but then Fai runs his thumb over his jaw and leans down. Suddenly, the words that had been on the tip of his tongue are curiously absent, and fishing for them feels like trying to catch gossamer strands in a meddlesome wind.

"But I suppose," comes a whisper of breath against his lips, "It's that stupid heroism of yours that… that I—that made me…"

Kurogane curls his left hand around the side of a pale throat and leans in.

A quiet digital jingle issues from the coffee table along with the unmistakable vibrating of a phone against glass.

Fai sucks in a breath. For a moment, there is only silence. Then that breath comes out in a chortle and they both burst into laughter at once. Blue eyes twinkle with suppressed mirth as Fai twists around to snag Kurogane's phone off the table. But as he looks down at the still-bright screen, something shifts in his expression. All of a sudden, the mirth is gone, and those blue eyes are lost for a split second. Then the shutters come back down, and the mirth is back again, but this time it doesn't quite soften his eyes.

"Watanuki sent you a message," he murmurs, and begins to climb off Kurogane's lap "Probably about the patrol tonight."

Kurogane blinks as Fai turns away to gather up the rags and first-aid supplies.

"How did you know I had patrol tonight?"

Still turned away, Fai answers, "Syaoran told me about it."

He lifts the basin and turns back around with a smile. For a moment, he reaches out as if to brush Kurogane's hair away from his face, but at the last moment, he retracts his hand.

"You should get ready," he says instead, "I'm going to shower."

Leaving the basin in the sink, he turns and retreats into the bedroom. There's the sharp _zhhhk! _of a zip, fumbling, and then finally the bathroom door clicks shut. Kurogane picks his phone up as the shower begins to run, and opens his unread message.

_Meeting point in front of block 34B at 2300 hours. Do remember to bring Fai with you._

With a sigh, he locks his phone and leaves it on the table on the way into the bedroom. In the corner, Fai's luggage is zipped up and safely locked once more. The memory of the three guns in that secret compartment springs to mind, but Kurogane quickly brushes them aside. Opening his closet, he pulls his uniform out and quickly and efficiently changes into it. His pants go down the laundry chute. It is as he is picking up his bloodied clothes from the floor that he hears it.

The sound of something scratching against the front door.

He sucks in a breath and busies himself clearing his clothes down the laundry chute, putting the first-aid kit back where it came from, wiping the blood off the floor. But when he's done, he can still hear it. On his guard, Kurogane pads silently over to the door and peers out of the peephole.

The empty corridor is all he sees. Still, the scratching continues at the door. A chill runs down his spine, and he tears his eye away from the peephole. The shower is still running and Kurogane is all alone in the living room… _Don't be ridiculous, _he tells himself sharply. _There's no such thing as ghosts._

_Ghosts aren't the only things to fear out there, _a quieter voice whispers in his head. Suddenly, the shadow of the mystery person coming up behind the frosted panel on the stairwell door springs to mind. Brushing the image impatiently aside, Kurogane stands. _Foolish, foolish, foolish! _He forcefully dismisses the rest of his childish fears and reaches out for the doorknob.

A pause.

He puts the chain on first.

As he warily opens the door, a disgruntled _meow _sounds from his feet, and he looks down to see Souji squeezing in through the gap.

"Meow," she accuses.

With a sigh of relief, Kurogane closes the door and collapses onto one of the dining chairs. Souhi climbs up into his lap and settles there happily. Looking down at her, Kurogane is suddenly struck by the hilarity of his actions.

"You scared me, you silly cat," he growls, playfully wrestling Souhi by the collar. With much mirthful purring, Souhi swats at him with one massive paw, "I'll teach you to scare me like that you—"

A quiet tinkle draws Kurogane's attention to the floor.

"Ah," he murmurs, pushing Souhi off his lap and bending down to pick up the small golden heart on the floor, "Your tag dropped off."

Or rather, he assumed that it was her tag. He had never quite noticed when exactly Fai had gotten Souhi a collar—well, he supposed that it was Fai who'd gotten the collar because he definitely hadn't gotten it. It had just appeared around Souhi's neck one day, and he hadn't really bothered much about it. SOUHI was engraved in a serifed font on the front of the tag, or more accurately, as he found out when he picked the small trinket up, on the front of the locket. Unconcerned, Souhi purrs and slinks into the bedroom.

A folded piece of paper flutters to the floor as the locket swings open on its hinges. Curious, Kurogane bends down to pick it up and only has the time to recognize the handwriting from yesterday's bento before the shower turns off. He stands up, startled, and slips the paper back into the locket.

It swings back open when he attempts to snap it shut, and he realizes that the fall must have damaged the locking mechanism. Dropping it back on the floor, he is met with the disconcertingly familiar icon of a black cat carved into the back of the locket. Then the bathroom door opens, and he pushes the thought away for later as he nudges the trinket under the sofa with his foot.

"_Sou-_hi~!" comes the delighted cry from within.

"Meow."

Fai comes out with his towel wrapped around his head and Souhi hefted in his arms like a baby.

"Who's the cwutest widdle kitty in the world, huh?" he coos in a disgusting baby-talk, "You are! Souhi is the cwutest, sweetest widdle kitty in the entiiiiiiire world!"

Kurogane clears his throat a little numbly, and Fai turns to him questioningly.

"You—I mean, Watanuki said to bring you with me."

"Oh, okay." To Souhi: "Alright then, down you go. Ugh, you're heavy."

Kurogane turns away to grab his wallet and phone.

* * *

Warehouse 34B is built along a rather obscure stretch of warehouses right along the divide. Kurogane personally thinks that if Yuuko really had to randomly allocate a meeting place, she could have allocated a place that was easier to find. Judging from the grumbling of several other officers when he arrives, he hadn't been the only one to have difficulty getting here.

"Ah! Konbawa, Suwa-san, Fai-san," Subaru greets with a low bow.

The kid's a decent one, and Kurogane isn't disappointed to find him on the team this time round.

"Fucking higher ups," Kamui swears, "Are they _trying _to get us lost?"

"Subaru!" Fai cries with much enthusiastic waving, "Thanks for driving me home this morning!"

"Eh? Oh, it was nothing at all," the boy assures him hastily, "It was really Seishirou-san who did the driving so…"

_Seishirou-san?_

"You know him?!" Kurogane demands, and Subaru takes a small step, looking a little confused.

"Do you?"

"I met him this afternoon."

"Really? Seishirou-san is so nice, isn't he?"

_Nice? _That wasn't exactly the word he'd use to describe the Sakurazukamori. Nice wasn't the word at all. A better word would be something like _monster, _or perhaps even _psychopath._

"Fuuma-san is pretty nice too," Subaru comments, eyes sliding towards Kamui, "Isn't he, Kamui?"

Kamui splutters out a vehement protest, and Subaru laughs.

Kurogane would have chosen that moment to rage about the complete _un_funniness of the situation—_they thought the Sakurazukamori and his brother were nice—nice—nice! _But at that moment, a loud "yo!" rings out.

One of their younger officers waves from a side-alley a little aways. Kurogane immediately recognizes the woman who accompanies him.

"Souma," he greets as they come up to them, "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Syaoran's not with you?" Ryuuou asks, looking eagerly around. Kurogane hates to break it to the kid but…

"No. He… resigned the other day."

"What?!"

Kurogane shrugs, and Souma cuts in.

"So is this the fifth officer? Why aren't you in uniform?"

It takes Kurogane a moment to realize that Souma isn't speaking to him. It takes him another moment to figure out who she's talking to.

"Oh, non, non, non," Fai says hastily, waving his hands out in front of him, "I'm just Kuro-aime's new housemate."

"Is that the suspect?" Kamui demands, jabbing an outraged finger at Fai, "Why the hell did you bring _him _along?!"

Sometimes, Kurogane wants to pick the young officer up by the back of his uniform and leave him hanging somewhere. He doubts the boy will be able to get back down. He was what? 5'5?

"Yuuko ordered me to," he growls instead, "Take it to _her."_

"There's supposed to be five of us," Souma informs them, on task as always, "Who's the last one?"

"Yoooohoooooo~!" comes a familiar voice from behind, and Kurogane groans, "That'd be me!"

Sorata comes bearing a plastic bag of… of Pocky.

"Here, have some," he says, thrusting one packet at Kurogane, who politely declines. Fai accepts it for him.

"Okay, so have we been assigned locations?" Kurogane asks, checking his watch; it's almost a quarter to midnight.

No one answers.

"Rock-paper-scissors~!" Sorata declares.

Kurogane wants to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

"I wanna go over there!" Fai says, pointing down one of the row of warehouses, "Kuro-chou and I are taking the scenic route!"

The 'route' in particularly is the row right by the Divide. Kurogane doesn't see what's so scenic around the goddamned river. With a sigh, he follows after Fai at a more sedate pace. Behind him, he can hear the other four officers throwing rock-paper-scissors.

"I can see Limbo from here!" Fai calls over his shoulder, "Aren't the lights beautiful against the water?"

Kurogane turns, and is surprised to find that the blonde is right. The ghostly lights of Limbo smear in dapples over the rippling water of the Divide, sparkling and glimmering. It's especially beautiful from this side. It was strange how much more beautiful the lights looked from within the darkness.

Fai turns to look at him from beneath pale lashes, blue eyes soft and so very sad. The half-light brightens half of his face, casting the other in darkness. In the shadows, his eyes sparkle subtly with the lights glinting off the water, so much bluer against the pitch black than in the light of day.

"Kurogane," he says quietly, "Je suis amoureux de toi."

Kurogane frowns.

"Are you saying strange things again?"

Fai smiles secretively and spins around.

"Perhaps," he says over his shoulder.

With a sigh, Kurogane shoves his hands into his pockets and trudges after Fai, resigned to his teasing.

"You _know _I don't understand what you're saying," he grumbles under his breath.

"And that's why I do it, Kuro-bête," Fai sing-songs, "Because you'll _never _know what I'm teasing you about!"

"Why the hell do you even—" he cuts himself off as a quiet noise reaches him from some distance.

"Kuro-cher? What—"

Kurogane impatiently shushes him. Human voices issue from one of the warehouses, and Kurogane stalks forward.

Fai grabs onto his elbow.

"Where are you— wait—"

Kurogane hushes the blonde a little more vehemently, cringing at the man's loud voice. He advances carefully forward, listening for any other noises.

A scream rings out.

Kurogane whips the radio from his belt as Fai takes a step back in horror.

"This is Suwa, come in. Urgent."

_Chhh. Arisugawa. What's going down on your side? over._

"Get your asses over here right now, you hear me?! over."

_Shirou. Chhhh. I will once you tell me where the fuck "here" is. over._

_Kamui… You shouldn't swear over the radio. Chh. Ah! This is Sumeragi. over._

"Warehouse 37A," Kurogane says shortly and clearly, "Get over here now, out."

_Don't just "out" like that, you bastard!_

A pause.

_Shirou. Chh. over._

Tucking the radio back into his belt, he moves forward, only to be obstructed by Fai placing himself bodily in front of him with a firm look on his face.

_Chhh. Souma here. Ryuuou is with me. We're coming. over._

"What are you doing?" Kurogane growls, ignoring the messages issuing from his radio.

"What are _you _doing?" Fai demands in return, voice just a little breathless, "Aren't you going to wait for them?"

Kurogane's eyes narrow.

"There's a man dying in there."

"The murderer might have a gun," Fai says, and his words are shaky, "You can't go in there."

_Chh. Sumeragi. I'm just around the corner. over._

"Get out of my way."

"No."

He attempts to manhandle the blonde out of his way, and Fai retaliates immediately by striking out in a punch. Kurogane grabs his fist and twists it so that Fai is forced to turn. He stops Fai's elbow before it can land in his ribs and then forces one leg between Fai, tripping him. While Fai is off-balance, he pulls Fai's arm up and easily throws him into the closes his ears to Fai's cry as he throws himself at the door. Locked. He takes a step back, then brings his leg around in a roundhouse kick.

The doors swing open with a crash and immediately, the smell of kerosene hits him like a freight train.

"This is the police!" he yells as he runs forward, "Put your hands in the air!"

An old man lies on the floor in a pool of his own blood, wheezing and white-faced. Kurogane is horrified to see the glisten of pulsing innards through the wide gash up the man's belly. The murderer stands and _surprise, surprise, _does not comply. Up close, the black-clothed man is a small, lithe figure wielding a short dagger. As the murderer launches himself at Kurogane, Kurogane is surprised to find the man barely reaching his chest. He deftly turns away from her first stab, but is taken by surprise as a second dagger comes up to slash at him. He attempts to turn aside once more, but winces as the blade slices over his bicep.

_"Kurogane!" _Fai screams from the doorway.

As the murderer falters, distracted, Kurogane pulls his baton out and brings it down upon the man. The metal cracks across the man's collarbone, and a small radio—_no, _it was a voice changer!—cracks and falls to the ground as the black-clothed figure stumbles with a sharp cry.

Kurogane's eyes widen.

_It was a woman's voice._

He—_She _spins away, one hand over her shoulder as she watches him warily from a few feet away. Through the eyeholes of her hood, he can see the dark curling lashes framing light eyes. _Gold _eyes. The pupils are a white slit down the centre of the iris, and there aren't any whites at all.

_Monster. _He thinks with a slight horror. _Inhuman._

The doors explode from their hinges as Shirou comes running in, violet eyes flashing viciously.

"Freeze!" Arigusuwa yells from behind, face serious for once, "This is the police!"

The murderer begins to back away just as Subaru points at the old man and cries, "It's the Ryanban!"

"You—" the old man wheezes wetly, blood spilling from his lips,"Don't think…you can get away with this… Bi—"

The woman kicks the man in the ribs, and a loud crack echoes through the warehouse as the Ryanban _screams. _Shirou runs forward, fast as a missile, and the murderer barely dodges the swing of his baton. His hand shoots out to grab hold of her hood, and she strikes out with her dagger. Kamui twists aside at the last second, but Kurogane can see the flash of pain across his face as the knife cuts a wide gash over his ribs.

As Kamui stumbles, winded, the murderer knees him in the gut and shoves him away. Then with a final glare at the fallen Ryanban, she turns and leaps through an open window.

"Fuck!" Kamui curses, staggering to his feet, "Quick! He's escaping!"

But then there is a strong hand gripping his forearm in a iron grasp, and another hand is shooting out to drag Shirou away by the back of his shirt.

"Get out!" screams Fai's voice in his ear, "Everybody, get out of here! _Now!"_

A horrifying _shhk! _reaches Kurogane's ears. His eyes widen.

_"Get out!"_

Kerosene fills his nostrils as he turns and scrambles for the exit, Fai right beside him. Shirou stumbles, face pale, and with surprising strength Fai tucks him under one arm and _bolts._

The last thing Kurogane sees is a lighted match being thrown in through the window out of the corner of his eye, and then the world suddenly flips as something rams into his ribs. He throws his arms out to protect his face, and scrapes his forearms and knees against gritty pavement as he hits the floor. Disembodied hands scrabble at him amidst panicked cries, fisting into his clothes and tightening around his wrists, dragging him along the floor. His world tilts and he catches disjointed flashes of Sorata and Souma's faces, hears Ryuuou's voice and finally, Subaru's piercing _shriek _that is drowned out immediately by a monstrous _roar._

An unbearable heat licks at his face as against him, Shirou _screams. _There are fingers clenching in his sleeve, another shaking body pressed to his back. Kurogane instinctively curls around the two quivering bodies lying against him as the world goes up in flames.

And then there was only darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Hi folks. I'm pretty sure that this is a lot worse than I actually think it is. But I'm sleepy and I'll probably cringe when I read through this tomorrow and curse myself for posting it up like this. Sorry for the long wait, but I've only just been able to get back to writing after all those deadlines. It's been a very stressful start to the school year. Hopefully things will die down soon. If it doesn't... Well, I'm sure I'll have free time next year since this year is my final year, oh yeah.**

**By the way, if anyone will write a fic with Kurogane picking Kamui up by the back of his shirt and leaving him hanging somewhere, I will bow down to you and call you god. Like really. Someone write it please. And it should be X!Kamui, because wouldn't it just be ridiculously funny to see the Savior hanging from someplace, unable to get down because he's just too _short? _Except... Except X!Kamui becomes so pitiful around you-know-when, and I'd hate to do that to him when he isn't being all bratty and deserving it...**

**I'm sorry, Kamui. I love you, I really do. Please don't kill me for wanting to see you hung up somewhere.**


	11. An Important Announcement

**IMPORTANT update 16/04/13**: Hey everyone. Sorry if you thought this was a new chapter, but it's just an important status update. So, err... I think this is a bit late, but **I've recently decided to go on temporary hiatus**. It's been quite awhile since I stopped writing/drawing completely but it suddenly occurred to me that I should make this announcement, and that I kinda owe my readers/whoever an explanation. Those of you who read my ANs will probably realize that I never seem to stop talking about the seemingly endless deadlines I'm buried under that prevents me from updating. That's one of the reasons why I'm going on hiatus. I take a two-year program called the International Baccalaureate, and its basically two years of major deadlines every week. It's my last year and the deadlines have just been building up and I just have a lot less time these days. Another reason is because apart from deadlines, my exams are coming up soon. And the third and final reason, that I think is really the most significant reason for my decision to go on temporary hiatus, is because... Ahaha, well how do I even begin to approach this?

I think I haven't been in tip-top shape recently (by which I mean for the last year and a half), emotionally speaking. I'm not going to go into details because it makes me uncomfortable even admitting this to you people, but there's barely anyone in our school who is doing well emotionally. The school itself drives you nuts. I mean, the end result is a school average score enough to get you into an Ivy League university, but the stress seems to be breaking everyone down and I don't know if it's worth it anymore. I mean it. And I really hate seeing my friends, all these people I love, breaking down like this. I hate coming to school and seeing the occasionally deranged looks in their eyes. That's what stress and sleep-deprivity does to you. I think I can say that the program itself isn't really that tough, but the pressure that the school is putting on us is the breaking point. It's not the program, I don't care if you're taking the IB as well and doing perfectly fine, it's the stress piled on top of the program.

A couple of weeks ago, we lost someone. I can't say we were the best of friends, but we were pretty close. I think it was a big blow to all of us since our cohort only has 80 students so we are a pretty close, tight-knit bunch. Anyway, one of us passed away some time ago. It was suicide. I can't say it doesn't hurt. It hurts. I can't really come up with the words to explain how I'm feeling. I'm so glad I'm doing this over the internet because I'm typing at the speed of one word per ten seconds. I've just been unable to do any writing or even drawing. And drawing has always been my safe haven (even moreso than writing). But I think I'm finally beginning to move past the grief, and that's why I'm finally coming back from the void of non-communication to tell you guys all this. I've been in a bit of a funk for the past two years and strangely enough, the recent events seems to have shocked me somewhat out of it. I dunno, I guess that it just sort of shocked me from feeling sorry for pitiful ol' me to feeling sorry for everyone in general. Which perhaps doesn't sound that ideal but it's really a lot better than just wallowing in teenaged, melodramatic despair and self-pity. (Omg, I can't believe I just referred to myself as a melodramatic teenager, I think that would have really PISSED ME OFF two months ago.)

Anyway, I think that _maybe, _like just perhaps. I dunno, this sounds so melodramatic but I don't know how else to phrase it. I think I might finally be starting to pick up the pieces of this mess I've kinda degenerated into in the process of getting this stupid diploma. Like _maybe. _I'm kinda scared to sound certain about it, because I usually have these strange episodes where I'll be all "THIS IS IT, I'M GOING TO START FUNCTIONING AS A PROPER HUMAN BEING. I'M GOING TO START EATING AND SLEEPING REGULARLY AND STOP DITCHING SCHOOL AND I'M GONNA START DOING ALL MY WORK PROPERLY AND I'M GOING TO QUIT LYING IN BED FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF WITH GREASY HAIR AND THREE DAY OLD CLOTHES AND FUNCTION AS A USEFUL MEMBER OF SOCIETY 8DDDDD." Then all those expectations I put on myself to be a "proper human being" kinda just build up until I crash under the pressure (of being a functioning member of society shit I'm such a loser) and go back to eating like a pig every three days, sleeping at odd hours, ditching school and coming in like four fucking hours late or something. Omg, I can't believe I'm actually typing all this out when I guess all along I've been trying to skim over it and POINTEDLY NOT TALK ABOUT IT.

Okay, fine. I'm a mess. I haven't just "not been in tip-top shape recently, emotionally speaking heehee *skirts around topic coyly*". I'm a melodramatic teenager (shit) who does nothing much but feel sorry for herself (fuck) at almost all hours of the day (agh) who's on psychiatric medication... and sometimes doesn't shower for three days straight like a gross fuck. Ah, shit, when I read the last paragraph I sound like a complete psycho loser. Fuck. And my tone of writing just kinda did a 180 screeching skid within a single sentence when I just gave up on explaining myself in a tactful, nicely worded, "I'm not actually a vulgar shit of a loser" way. Shit I sound like a bipolar psycho. Okay, yeah, the deadlines and the exams are kinda like an excuse that only takes up one freaking paragraph. Whatever, NO MORE PERSONAS. Yeah, hi, nice to meet you. I'm really such a piece of shit and I'm on hiatus and I'm kinda like a spoilt brat finally starting to try picking up after myself.

Now I'm going to run far far away before I rant any more and make myself look even more of a psycho, bipolar freak who actually bothers to rant my problems honestly out to the internet at large. Whatever, I'm anonymous here and I'd like to stay that way. You people don't know who I am and I'll probably delete this once I'm off my temporary hiatus. Hopefully I'll succeed in somewhat clearing all the broken glass and be back writing/drawing soon. Bye. Don't feel sorry for me and if you ever bring this up again in any particular way that makes me feel uncomfortable, I will respond with a very succinct and very convenient "I don't wanna fucking talk about it."


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